No Greater Love
by AnEnduringHope
Summary: Two very different people with two very different backgrounds. One purpose. One passion. And a love that triumphs over all. Set in Austria during World War II. All human.
1. Part 1

For those of you who've wondered why the updates for _Rising From The Ashes_ have been few and far between lately, this is your answer. This story was intended to be a one shot, but the more I delved into the idea, the more it took on a life of it's own. It has absolutely owned me for the last two months. But more than thirty one thousand words later, I'm really excited about the finished product… I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I have.

Two things I ask… one, you may want to have tissues handy. I've been told this is a tear jerker… and two, please, _please_, trust me. You'll see why.

Exuberant, abundant thanks go to my lovely girls, koko23cat, beckaboowriter, and LittlePixieCullen88 for prereading this for me, for holding my hands and not letting me scrap this idea altogether, and for being the best cheerleaders and friends a gal could ask for. I love you! Loads! *kisses*

I've always had a fascination for this time period, and I did do research about the times and events of WWII, but admittedly, this story is fiction so it's "sensational" rather than "factual." Even with my research, I'm quite sure there are more than a few errors. In other words, please don't be taking notes for your history homework from me! ;)

All usual disclaimers apply… the story line is mine, but all recognizable characters, of course, belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Okay… *takes deep breath* Enough chattering from me. Enjoy!

**No Greater Love**

**Part 1**

Lilting music filled the air in the small Viennese café. A lone young woman sat in a secluded corner in the very back of the room. She toyed absently with the drink that sat neglected in front of her as she waited for her companion to arrive.

Who it was that she was to meet today, she wasn't entirely sure. She had a description of him, but she'd never seen him before – only in the picture she'd been shown to identify him. And it wasn't for social purposes that she was here to meet him either.

As she waited, her eyes scanned each person in the café – the refined looking gentleman sitting at the table by the front window, reading the newspaper. The young couple, looking giddily in love, flirting at the table in the opposite corner. The group of men who looked as if they came from a long day at a factory, sitting at the bar with their caps pushed back, half empty glasses of beer in front of them.

Her relaxed posture belied her watchfulness. She'd learned to pay close attention to even the smallest details of late. Her very life depended on it at times.

With feigned nonchalance, she watched the coming and going of every person through the door. She'd been sitting there, nursing her glass of wine, for almost half an hour when she saw him.

Instinctively, when he entered, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She fought back the shudder that shook her internally.

He was tall, standing well over six feet, she would guess, and broad shouldered. The short hair peeking out from under his hat was a rich honey gold. He carried himself with the air of a man with authority, a man used to having people listen to him. His steps were lithe and purposeful as he strode over to the bar and ordered his drink.

The man's gaze searched through the café, looking for something – or someone – and Alice took the opportunity to study his profile in detail. Normally, she wouldn't have given someone like him a second glance – not with the uniform that he wore… and the swastikas that adorned his person.

Men like him represented everything she hated… everything she fought daily against.

But, when he turned so that she could fully see his face, she felt as if all the air had been stolen from her lungs. He was breathtaking. Even with the uniform, she couldn't deny that. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. With his golden hair, his piercing ice blue eyes, and his perfect features, he was a prime specimen of what Herr Hitler claimed to be the "master race." This man was the very picture of Aryan beauty.

And he matched the description she'd been given of the man she was to meet. But his picture had done him little justice.

As if he'd heard her gasp from across the room, the captivating stranger's eyes finally came to land at her corner table, meeting her intent gaze. A look of recognition passed over his features. She almost blushed at being caught staring so unashamedly at him. He knew she'd been watching him, and his lips lifted in a knowing smirk.

His eyes traveled from hers up to the glossy brown strands of her hair which curled just below her chin, down to her lips, lower to the slender line of her neck, the hollow of her throat. She thought for certain he would be able to see the rapid flutter of her heartbeat shaking her chest when his gaze lingered on the blue silk of her blouse before drifting back up to her eyes again.

Her gaze locked with his as he crossed the room to stand at the other side of the table. Alice felt something akin to a current of electricity humming through her body as he approached, a tingling at the base of her neck. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, her body betrayed her, a deep-rooted desire sparked from within, singing through her veins.

"Excuse me." The sound of his voice shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. The smooth baritone was rich and deep… and sent shivers coursing down her spine. "Is this seat taken?"

"Not yet." Alice was inordinately pleased with herself for keeping her voice even. It didn't waver once. She even managed to sound coy. But, then, she'd only spoken two words as yet… she'd have to save her self-congratulations for later.

He pulled out the seat next to her when she gestured for him to do so and slid his long frame into it. Alice felt the persistent tingles intensify at his nearness. This pull she felt towards him was deep and primal; she'd never experienced anything quite like it before. It was more than a little bit unsettling… and very distracting.

"Am I correct in assuming that you are Alice?" His voice was low, but with his close proximity, she had no trouble hearing him.

"I am." Again, only two words, but she felt fortunate to have even had the presence of mind for that. She'd not been able to appreciate from a distance just how _blue_ his eyes were… and it wasn't enough that they were the clearest blue she'd ever seen, but the blue was tinged with fascinating flecks of green. They were captivating and deep, and she found it difficult to look away, much less think when he was gazing at her so intently.

"Well then, Alice, it's a pleasure to meet you. I must admit, when I arranged for this little interlude, I didn't imagine that I'd be mixing business with pleasure, so you are a very fortunate surprise." Alice felt heat pool beneath her cheeks at his appreciative gaze.

His attention was diverted then by the arrival of a waiter bringing his drink. He leaned back slightly, giving the man room to set it on the table in front of him. She was grateful for the distance, small though it was, and she used the brief moment to chide herself for her reaction to him. She'd played this part before and had never once had this kind of difficulty focusing on the task at hand. She had a job to do, and she couldn't afford to be distracted… no matter how desirable her companion was.

By the time the waiter left them alone again, Alice had regained some of her lost composure… for the moment at least. She scanned the room quickly, ensuring that no one was close enough to hear their exchange, that no one was paying them any attention. No one was.

In the time she'd been doing this, she'd learned to play her role expertly. In order for this to work, she would have to hold herself together enough to make this look like an intimate exchange. Their low voices and whisperings would be less conspicuous if they looked like lovers sharing a quiet conversation over drinks. It would be no hardship to get close to him, she was certain of that, but she couldn't let herself be sidetracked from the real reason they were here.

When it was again just the two of them, Alice leaned in, painting a coy smile on her lips as she began her charade. She slowly drew the tip of her forefinger over the back of his knuckles. He had long, elegant fingers, she noticed, and immaculately groomed nails.

"You have something for me," she said lowly, stroking from his fingers up to his wrist. She scolded herself internally again for noticing that his wrist was twice the thickness of hers, for cataloguing the grace and strength of his hands… his very large, very masculine hands.

Her shoulders trembled as one of his long arms draped around her, drawing closer. "I do. Did you bring what I requested?"

"Of course," her voice faltered as he took her hand in his. The gentleness of his touch was unexpected as he cradled her hand, bringing it up to his lips. When he brushed a kiss over her palm, heat speared up her arm, her heart racing, her breath becoming shallower at the touch of his lips to her skin. Never had her body reacted so strongly to anyone's touch. She'd never felt anything like this before. Never.

"Excellent." His voice was low and husky as he brought his face near to hers, speaking a breath away from her ear. "I don't think I must tell you how urgent it is that this information gets into the right hands. There is no time to waste."

"I assure you, Captain," she said, glancing at the insignia decorating his uniform, "you have no need to worry. I'm quite good at what I do." Alice's words didn't come out quite as evenly as she would have liked, but the fact that she was able to form words at all was something she was quite proud of. His face was still inches from hers. Every breath she took was laced with his fragrance – spicy aftershave, soap, and man. It was far more intoxicating than the wine sitting neglected in front of her.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "I have no doubt," he whispered. Alice's body shivered when his lips touched the lobe of her ear. It could have been an accident, but, somehow, she doubted it… especially since he seemed to linger a split second longer than necessary.

The moment passed and he pulled back just enough to take a cigarette and lighter from his overcoat pocket. A quick scan of the café assured them both that no one was paying them any mind. They were playing their parts very convincingly… perhaps too convincingly for Alice's peace of mind.

The Captain placed the cigarette between his lips and held the lighter to the other end. The look of vexation on his face when his lighter didn't work was shockingly believable, his brow furrowed, his lips turned down in a frown.

Alice smiled and stroked the side of his face – merely for appearance's sake, not because she wanted to feel the rasp of his slight stubble against her fingertips. That was what she told herself at least.

She reached for her handbag and pulled out the lighter from within. She handed it to him and took his, slipping it surreptitiously into her small purse in place of the other.

Just that quickly, their exchange was made. And now she felt that her little clutch wore a neon sign, proclaiming its contents for the world to see. She wanted to go, but in the interest of their charade, she stayed where she was, playing her role as he finished his cigarette.

When a sufficient amount of time had passed, when their glasses sat almost empty in front of them, the Captain stood and chivalrously helped her into her coat before slipping his own back over his shoulders. He held out his arm for her and walked with her back to her car. Eager as she was to escape, she felt rather melancholy at the thought that she might never see her captivating companion again.

He opened her door when they reached the car, catching her hand in his before she could get inside. He bowed slightly at the waist, brushing his lips gallantly over the back of her hand. "It was a pleasure, Miss Alice," his smooth voice washed over her as he straightened again, still keeping hold of her hand. "I hope we meet again soon."

With that, he released her hand, almost reluctantly it seemed, and waited until she was seated inside the car before closing her door securely. He was still standing there, watching her, as she pulled away. His scent lingered on her; every breath she took was laced with it – a constant, heady reminder of him whether she needed it or not.

Adrenaline still sang through her veins, but she told herself it had more to do with the mission she was so close to completing rather than the memory of his scintillating presence. It was simply easier to deal with that way.

It was dark by the time she finally parked the car in front of her house. Esme was there in the kitchen, clearing away the remainder of their dinner, and Carlisle at the table, reading the newspaper. They both looked up with warm smiles for her when she entered.

"Welcome home, darling," Esme said, up to her elbows in dishwater. "There's a plate waiting for you on the stove if you're hungry."

"Thanks," Alice responded to her mother-figure, "but I don't think I could eat right now." Her stomach was still too much in knots to even think about food.

"Everything went well, I trust?" Carlisle asked, laying down his paper as Alice slipped her coat from her shoulders, hanging it on the coat rack by the door.

"Yes, it did, thankfully. You can stop worrying now," she said with a pert smile, crossing the room and laying one hand on his shoulder.

"You know I can't help worrying." Carlisle patted her hand lovingly. "Go on now" he urged, "he's waiting for you downstairs."

Swiftly, she bent to press a kiss to his cheek before she skipped down the stairs to the cellar. Knowing the dark cavern with the familiarity of an old friend, she went directly to the panel that led to their hidden room and moved it aside. Edward was there waiting for her exactly as Carlisle had said he was.

He looked up when she entered, his shock of bronze hair standing on end as usual, glowing a deep red in the dim candlelight. Edward's nose wrinkled as she came nearer, and he leaned forward to sniff her shoulder.

"What?" she asked, her forehead wrinkling at the amusement that was evident even in the darkness.

"It would appear _you_ had a good night," he teased with an impish grin.

Alice just rolled her eyes, fighting back the blush that threatened. She knew what Edward smelled – the Captain's cologne… the same scent that she was certain would invade her dreams tonight.

"It was a successful night," she told him brusquely. "I got what I went for and got out alive, so I suppose that equals a 'good night.' Though, what kind of valuable information could be in here, I haven't the faintest idea," she told him as she handed him the lighter.

"You might be surprised," Edward said, taking it from her, immediately becoming absorbed in his task.

Alice perched on a stool and watched as his deft fingers disassembled the lighter, removing the roll of film hidden inside.

"So," Edward drew out the word as he set up to develop the film, "you met 'the Captain' tonight… what did you think?" There was a distinct note of teasing in his voice that Alice ignored.

"I didn't think anything," Alice told him innocently… too innocently.

Even in the dim light, Alice could see Edward roll his eyes. He snorted lightly, letting her know he wasn't fooled for a moment.

"He comes from an old, influential German family," Edward told her as if she'd asked, not looking away from the film as he spoke, "with a bloodline pure enough to please even Hitler himself. His father fought in the last war, earned a whole list of distinctions for himself. Word has it, the General is a personal friend of the Fuhrer even now."

"Is he?" Alice asked, soaking in the information he imparted, yet trying not to sound too interested. Edward just hummed in response, absorbed in what he was doing. "So what about the Captain? What does he do?"

"He's an officer in German intelligence. He's in a prime position to gather all kinds of useful information, and he's very good at _sharing_ it, if you know what I mean."

"What kinds of information?" she prodded when he fell silent again.

"Just about anything you could imagine… locations of munitions plants, logistical information…"

"And no one suspects him?"

"Not yet. He's very good at the role he plays. He knows his time will eventually run out, but I think he's making the most of his position until it does."

"Do you think his family knows about his… extracurricular activities?" she wondered aloud.

Edward glanced up at her with a wry smile on his face. "Yes, they know very well what he's doing. They're all in on it, too. The only one that's not is the daughter, and they sent her to Paris last year for school, from what I heard. Getting her out of the worst of the danger, I think."

Alice mulled over this quietly for a moment. She knew her reasons for fighting – she kept them in mind at all times – but she wondered what _his_ reasons could possibly be. She couldn't quite imagine. "Wonder what motivates them to be so involved like that?"

"I don't know," Edward shrugged. "They've never said… not that I know of, at least. But we all have our reasons. Doesn't matter what they are in the end as long as the job gets done."

"True."

"Jasper is following in his father's footsteps, apparently. He's made a quick jump through the ranks already. I would imagine part of that is because of his father's political influence, but I've also heard that he has an uncanny charisma. People are naturally drawn to him. They listen to what he has to say and want to follow him."

"Have you ever met him?" Alice asked, toying with a loose thread at her knee. She could vouch for that charisma. She'd never met anyone quite as… compelling… as he was. Just the thought of his touch, his voice in her ear, was enough to send the shivers racing up her spine again.

"I've seen him a couple of times. Never talked to him, though." Edward glanced up at her slyly. "I've heard he has quite the effect on the ladies. He's obtained a reputation for being quite the charmer."

"Does he?" Alice asked, trying her hardest to keep her voice nonchalant. It didn't work apparently.

Edward laughed loudly, and she felt fire spread under the skin of her cheek. "Oh, if you could see yourself blushing," he teased.

"Don't be ridiculous," Alice chided. "It's dark in here. You couldn't see anything even if I was."

"What's the matter, Alice?" his voice was taunting. "Did the _dashing_ young Captain get under your skin?" he asked, placing one hand on his chest theatrically.

"Shut up, Edward!" She snapped, causing him to laugh even harder. "I swear, you're worse than a gossipy old woman."

"I'll take that as a yes, then," he said smugly.

Alice shot daggers at him with her gaze, but he was unperturbed.

He chuckled off and on until the film was developed and he finally got a glimpse at what information Alice had been a courier for. Looking at the snapshots, he whistled under his breath.

"What is it?" Alice asked, getting up from her perch and coming to stand beside him.

"A detailed account of the next German offensive on the Eastern front," Edward said, his voice entirely businesslike now, all traces of teasing gone as he prepared to encrypt the information and send it on to the next link of the Underground. Alice ghosted silently up the stairs then to get ready for bed, leaving Edward to his task.

Just as she had suspected, her dreams that night were filled with the young Captain, the fascinating depths of his eyes, his rakish grin, the masculine elegance, the tender strength of his hands, the electric feeling of his lips on her skin.

Even in sleep, he left her breathless, wanting more.

Over the next several months, Alice encountered the Captain on numerous other occasions. In between meetings, she would convince herself that his effect on her was all in her imaginings… no one could actually elicit that strong a reaction from her. Yet every time she saw him, those same persistent stirrings filled her. A drugging warmth coursed through her veins every time her hand brushed his. When their eyes locked, it was difficult to find the will to look away.

Their flirtatious bantering became even more charged over time, and, eventually, Alice began to wonder if perhaps the attraction truly wasn't only one-sided, if it wasn't simply an act on his part. She couldn't help but wonder if she occupied as many of his thoughts as he did hers. Deep down, she had to admit she hoped that she did.

But, the intensity of their attraction aside, Alice had a much bigger task to occupy her time and her thoughts. More important to her, closer to her heart, than being a courier of information, was her primary role in the Underground resistance.

Alice was a smuggler.

She didn't smuggle jewels or gold… she worked with something far more valuable than that.

She'd made several trips over the border with her precious cargo already, but it grew more dangerous all the time. Alice wasn't afraid of being discovered… not for herself. She, more than most, could afford to be reckless. There was no one really to miss her if she was gone. Only the Cullens, but they weren't her blood relations, and they were a large part of the reason that she'd been given this opportunity to fight in the resistance in the first place.

No, she didn't truly fear being found out, but she wanted to fight as long as she possibly could, do as much damage to the German war machine, as she could before she was taken down.

And in order to do that, she needed something very important. She needed new identification. False papers were difficult to lay hands on, and very expensive. Alice knew only one person who could help her with that.

So, this time, Alice was the one to contact the Captain – Jasper, she had come to call him now.

Without question, he agreed to meet her, and so it was that she found herself on a bridge overlooking the park, waiting for him. Even without the dead giveaway of his uniform, Alice could spot his approach immediately. She chose not to acknowledge the fact that the she could recognize him by his stride alone.

He walked with easy grace, purposeful and lithe… like a predator. Alice had never seen that predatorial, ruthless side of him before, but she knew he had to possess it. He would not have lasted this long in the German army – or, for that matter, even in Germany in this day – without it.

The new insignia decorating his uniform caught her eye as he came within yards of her post. "Major?" she asked, cocking one eyebrow.

"A recent development," he demurred, taking her hand as was his custom and bending to press a kiss over her fingers. Instead of releasing her hand now, he tucked it into the crook of his arm as they strolled like lovers in the park.

"Congratulations on your promotion. I'm happy for you," she said, attempting to hide her pleasure at his continued touch.

"Thank you," he smiled down at her, genuine warmth in his eyes. "Though, I'm quite certain you didn't request this little rendezvous just to congratulate me."

"No," Alice admitted, "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Do you? I'm intrigued now. You don't strike me as the type to ask for a favor lightly."

"I'm not. But I need something very important, and I don't know who else to ask."

It could have been something else, but Alice thought she saw a flicker of concern in his eyes as he glanced down at her. "I'm listening," he assured her.

"I need a passport, Jasper… a neutral one. You know as well as anyone how difficult it's getting to be to leave the country, and it's vital that I be able to do so freely. Numerous lives depend on it."

His thoughts were carefully concealed as he matched his pace to hers, his face giving nothing away as he considered her request. Jasper was silent for a long time, and Alice began to grow worried that he'd deny her altogether. She was preparing arguments in her head should he try when he finally spoke.

"Give me one reason why you need it," he spoke quietly, coming to a standstill. There was no one else in the immediate vicinity and a tree blocked them from view should anyone pass by. He searched her eyes intently, though for what she didn't know.

"It's not just one reason, Jasper. It's a million and one of them… and their time is running out with every passing day."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his attention piqued by the fervency, the deep conviction, in her voice.

"The children, Jasper. It's for the children. Do you have any idea how many little ones stand to lose their lives just because of the blood that runs through their veins if we can't get them out? I've made trips across the border with several already, but it's getting more dangerous all the time.

"You have the ability to get me the papers and the identification that will make it easier, I know you do. I'm aware that I can't pay you for what they're worth, but I'm begging you to do it for them… for all the little lives that are helpless apart from us."

Jasper's eyes as they searched hers were unreadable… inscrutable. For one terrible moment, she thought once again he might turn her down. But he didn't.

After a long silence, he nodded once slowly. "Meet me back here in a week. I'll have what you need."

She nodded, a sigh of relief passing her lips. "A week. I'll be here."

A smile tilted his lips as he took her hand in his. This time, he didn't kiss her fingers or the back of her hand… this time his lips brushed the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. Tingles spread over the tender flesh, rushing up her arm at the unexpected caress.

"Until then, Alice," he breathed against her skin.

The week passed slowly for Alice, but pass it did, and finally she found herself standing in the same place watching Jasper stride towards her again as night fell like a curtain around them. His face was set with determination as he reached her.

Alice sighed with relief when he passed a small package into her hands. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me," her words flowed quickly to the man standing silent and stiff in front of her. "I wish there was some way to repay you for your efforts…" she began, but his voice finally cut off her words.

"There _is_ one thing you can do, Alice."

She felt her heart lurch at hearing his voice caress her name as it did. Her eyes searched his in the moonlight. "Tell me."

"You have another trip planned soon?" 

"Yes," Alice nodded, "I have arrangements to leave the day after tomorrow."

His eyes caught hers and held them. "Let me come with you."

"What?" she stammered in surprise. Of all the things he might have requested from her, that was something she never would have expected.

He removed his cap and ran a restless hand through his hair. His voice was barely audible when he spoke, and Alice had to strain to hear.

"I have certain valuables that I need to get out of the country and into the hands of the Allies. If you were willing to allow me to go with you, if you would help me, I think it would be a much easier transaction to make."

"What kind of valuables?"

"A great variety of gems that can be used for food, medicine, and supplies for the Allied troops." Again, his voice was so low that she had to lean in to make them out. "I've already spoken with contacts in the Underground and they've agreed to see that they make it where they need to go if I can get them out of the country. That's where I need your help."

Alice nodded, needing no further prompting than that. "What do you want me to do?"

Two days later, she stood at the train station with Jasper, a little girl clasping her hand, an infant cradled in her arms, and hundreds of tiny gems sewn into the seams of her clothes. She knew Jasper had probably more even than she hidden in his garments. Alice couldn't even bring herself to think about how much they were worth… or what would happen if they were found out.

She focused instead on the little ones holding so tightly to her. Sara was lovely little girl with glossy brown ringlets and bright brown eyes who had turned five years old just two weeks before. She'd said barely a word, but she clung tightly to Alice's hand as they boarded the train, her wide eyes taking everything in.

Her little brother, Conrad, slept heavily, held closely in Alice's other arm. He was a sturdy little boy, little more than a year old. Alice almost wanted to chuckle at the soft snores that passed his lips. He'd been given just enough cough syrup in his milk earlier to make him drowsy at least until they got settled on the train.

A child that young couldn't possibly understand the charade they were playing, and it would only arouse suspicion and draw attention to them if he was crying for his mother when his "mother" was holding him. It was much safer to let him sleep for most of the trip.

Alice shifted the little boy in her arms, catching sight of the ring that graced her left hand as she did so. To add yet more credibility to their story that they were a young family traveling to the Alps for a vacation, Jasper had presented her with a small gold band… a wedding ring. She had smiled and thanked him and slipped it onto her finger. She wouldn't admit, even to herself, how very much she liked seeing it there.

They'd passed through inspection easily, their bags hadn't been searched and few questions had been asked. They'd been ushered onto the train quickly and without fanfare. Alice breathed a sigh of relief as they took their seats. The danger was far from over, but at least they'd passed the largest hurdle without being discovered. She could breathe a little easier now.

She truly believed though that it was Jasper's influence that had prompted the ease of their boarding. He wasn't wearing his uniform now, of course – he was trying to go unrecognized – but even without it he carried himself as a man with authority… a man accustomed to being obeyed. People seemed to react subconsciously to that – a fact that Alice was infinitely grateful for.

Jasper gestured for Alice to sit once they'd reached their private compartment and she did so, both children nestled against her. Alice's eyes followed him as he stowed away their bags, fascinated by the sight of him in plain, civilian clothing. She'd never seen him without his uniform before… and she decided she liked him much better without it.

Almost as fascinating to her as civilian Jasper was his ring on her hand. It caught the light every time she rubbed up and down Conrad's little back. As the train began to move, the countryside passing them by outside the windows, Alice permitted herself to dream about what it might be like were this not an act… if the children were theirs… if they were a normal family as they claimed setting out on a holiday together rather than two people fighting their on their own individual war fronts, smuggling children over the border and away from certain death.

Conrad slept soundly for hours, draped over Alice's chest with his head resting on her shoulder. And, in the quietness of the cabin as the daylight faded away, Alice was privileged to a glimpse of the man she had to admit that she was growing to love that she'd never imagined before.

Once he'd gotten settled on the seat beside Alice, he had coaxed Sara onto his lap. For hours, he'd entertained her with stories, pointing out scenery outside as it passed, finding little games to play to pass the time for her. He never seemed to grow tired of it, and when he finally managed to coax Sara to talk to him, and even to giggle at the silly things he said, he seemed to consider it a victory of sorts.

Alice had to smile to herself at seeing the shy, darting glances the little girl shot in Jasper's direction. His charm wasn't confined to grown women apparently. Sara was quite enamored with him.

Eventually, the strain of the day and the rocking of the train lulled the little one to sleep. Her head lolled back onto Jasper's chest, her eyes sliding shut. For several moments, Jasper just held her, gently brushing her hair from her forehead, rocking her to the motion of the train. Finally, he shifted her carefully in his arms, cradling her head with his hand. He laid her on the bench opposite them, slipping off his coat and draping it over her as a blanket.

Alice said nothing for a while, though hundreds of questions raced through her mind. It wasn't until he finally seemed to find his way out of his thoughts that she spoke.

"You seem like you have experience with that," Alice said as he glanced at her with a smile toying at his lips.

"What do you mean?" he asked, keeping his voice low so the sleeping children wouldn't be disturbed.

"You're good with children. I must say I didn't expect that from you," she said candidly. "Might have been the uniform that threw me off," she teased.

He grinned, shrugging off her compliment. "She's a sweet girl. It wasn't hard."

His eyes held hers, the swaying of the train making their shoulders brush together. A sense of quiet intimacy filled the cabin in the fading light of twilight.

"Tell me your story, Alice," he requested in a hushed voice, breaking through the haze that had taken over her mind as she'd stared so closely into his eyes.

"What?" she asked, confused and a little dazed. His close proximity always had that effect on her.

"Your story," he urged again. "We all have one, and I'd like to hear yours. I'm curious. You're a mystery, Alice… a beautiful, fascinating mystery. I'd like the chance to understand you a little more."

She ducked her head, embarrassed by his frank assessment. "I don't really think there's anything of a mystery about me, but I'll tell you if you want." At his nod, she took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts to begin.

"I was born in Vienna; I've lived there all my life. My father was a musician. He played first violin in the Austrian Philharmonic Orchestra. The music was in his blood. Most of my earliest memories are of sitting at his feet as he rehearsed. I woke to the sound of his violin in the morning and fell asleep to it at night. The only thing in life he loved more than his music was his family… my mother and me," her voice grew distant, her eyes faraway as the memories resurfaced.

"My mother was a very gentle woman, quiet and soft spoken. I never heard her raise her voice to anyone. She was one of the most giving and selfless people I've ever known. She was always rather frail and delicate, and, looking back, I think that was why my father doted on her so much.

"When I was eight years old, she got sick. The doctors never could figure out what was wrong. They tried medicine after medicine, but nothing helped. My father and I watched her fade away right before our eyes. She died that next summer."

Alice's voice broke, tears clouding her eyes as she lived through that loss all over again. No matter how much time had passed, that was an ache she knew would never go away. She felt a strong hand press against hers, squeezing her fingers as Jasper offered what silent support he could.

Alice cleared her throat, wiping away the tears that escaped from her eyes as she continued with a trembling voice. "My father was devastated. He threw himself into his music like never before. He tried to make life as normal as possible for my sake, but I knew better. I only had to look at his eyes to know that nothing was the same.

"But the summer that I turned twelve, he met Helene. Her father took over as conductor of the orchestra, and she came with him to keep his house. Her husband had been killed in an accident a few years before, so I think she related to my father on some level – they understood each other's loss as only someone who has been there could.

"They fell in love and were married a year later. I would have loved her for no other reason than she made my father happy again. She made him smile. But I had to love her for her own sake as well. She was lovely, inside and out.

"Catharine was born two years later. She was the happiest baby and so sweet, but as she grew older, we could see that Catharine's mind didn't work quite like ours. We said she was special, that she talked to angels, but the Nazis said she was handicapped and a disgrace.

"They came to our home and took her away – to an institution, or so they told us. No amount of crying and pleading on my father's or Helene's part did any good. Helene was carrying another child at the time, and because she'd had one child with a 'handicap,' they took her too. They took her to the hospital and killed her unborn baby. She died of complications three days later.

"My father went mad with grief. He stormed the hospital with a gun when he found out. He shot two people before they shot him." Jasper said nothing, only held her hand, as she took a moment to compose herself, fighting back the grief that was still so fresh despite the years.

When she'd composed herself again, she took a deep breath and continued. "It was after that I was taken in by Carlisle and Esme. They became my foster family, I suppose you could say. They gave me a home and some semblance of stability when my world came crashing in around me. They gave me the option of staying in Austria with them or escaping from the country. German control was growing heavier all the time, and they knew it wouldn't be safe for me if the Nazis ever found out who I was." Alice felt a hand touch her face, wiping at the tracks of tears that had slipped from her eyes.

Jasper's face was twisted in pain as he felt her heartache through her words and her tears. He regretted that he'd caused her grief to resurface by asking, but he was grateful for the glimpse inside her mind – of the events that had made her the person she was. He'd thought he couldn't admire or respect her any more than he already had. He was wrong.

"I knew then that I could either run and hide, or I could stay and fight," Alice continued, a hint of steel returning to her eyes. "I could leave and not look back, or I could do everything in my power to hinder them, to slow them down. I can't stop them, but for every life that I help escape their grasp, I consider it a victory. I couldn't do anything to save Catharine or Helene and her unborn child, but so help me I'll do everything I can to keep as many children as possible from suffering that same fate."

Jasper had been silent throughout her story and he remained so now for the space of several breaths, regarding her with a look in his eyes that she couldn't quite decipher. Gently, he cupped her cheek in his hand. "You're an amazing woman, Alice," he breathed so softly she almost didn't hear. "Few people have the strength you've shown. You make me ashamed of myself."

She ducked her head, embarrassed, not knowing what to say. But inside, she was warmed by his compliment. His opinion mattered to her… perhaps too much.

The silence stretched on between them before he finally spoke again. "You must be tired. Here," he held out his arms, "let me take him for a while." Alice shifted, carefully transferring Conrad to Jasper's waiting arms.

Alice stretched as much as she could in the small space, flexing her arms. Just as Jasper had suspected, they felt rubbery and exhausted from holding the infant for so long. He was a sturdy little boy.

She settled back down, resting her head on the back of her seat as Jasper cradled the sleeping child against his chest. "You can sleep for a while, Alice," he told her quietly. "I'll stay awake."

Alice didn't notice exactly when she drifted off, but, when she woke, her head was resting quite comfortably on Jasper's shoulder, his arm draped around her. She nuzzled her face into the rough fabric of his coat, breathing in his scent.

Through the haze of sleep, she realized that even with the danger they were in, even with the different courses their lives were taking, waking up next to him, enveloped in his warmth, she felt more relaxed and more content than she had since she'd lost her family.

It felt right. It felt like home.

When their train reached its destination, Jasper, Alice, and the children were greeted by Otto who was waiting for them with his buggy. Alice, having worked with him on several occasions, greeted him warmly with a hug. He was an older man, his hair mostly gray by now, but he and his wife Marta were very dear to Alice. They cared for the safety of these children with the same zeal Alice herself possessed. She found in them kindred spirits working towards the same goal.

As they rode up further into the mountain, Alice felt a sense of peace enveloping her. There was just something about the majesty of the snow covered Alps, the vivid green of the rolling grass and the tall trees. She could almost make herself believe that she'd entered another world altogether… one the war couldn't taint with its cruel touch.

Marta was waiting at the door for them when she heard the sleigh pull up in front of the house. She greeted Alice and the children like prodigals returning home, enveloping them in a warm, motherly embrace. Like a mother hen, she gathered them all together and bustled them into the house, welcoming them with bread still warm from the oven and fresh, cold milk.

Alice watched as the tranquility of the mountain and the homey atmosphere worked its magic on the travel weary children. The lines of strain faded away, the cold, quiet fear fading from their young eyes. Marta settled the four of them in their rooms, leaving them to rest from their travel and wash up. Alice settled into the cozy warmth of the feather bed with the children surrounding her on either side and promptly fell asleep. Her eyes were much too heavy to stay open.

She awoke, refreshed, a full two hours later to the sound of Conrad's happy babbling beside her. After changing his soiled diaper, she put him on her hip and carried him back down the stairs. Sara was already down there, helping Marta knead her bread.

"Such a good helper you are, little one," Marta praised the little girl, running her hand over her hair, tied back in braids on either side of her face. "But why don't you take your brother and go outside now, hmm? See if you can find some wildflowers to put on the table."

Alice set Conrad down and watched the two little ones scamper, hand in hand, outside where Marta's daughter watched over them.

"So precious," Marta came to stand beside Alice at the window.

"Yes, they are," Alice agreed softly, watching them run and play outside, bright eyed and rosy cheeked already, gathering the vibrant wildflowers in their arms. She caught sight of Jasper in the distance as well, helping Otto and his boys in the barn with their chores. The wind ruffled his hair, and, even with the distance, Alice could see that he appeared more relaxed than she'd ever seen him before. The lines of stress had melted away for the moment.

Just for now, Alice permitted herself to continue her daydream from the train that this was their home… that they had no other responsibilities, no wartime demands waiting for them upon their return.

"The mountain has a way of working its magic on everyone, doesn't it?" Marta asked with a smile.

"It really does. It almost feels like a completely different world up here. It feels safe. I'd almost forgotten what that was like."

Marta's face filled with sympathy as she reached out to stroke her cheek in a motherly fashion. "You have three days before your train leaves for Vienna again," she told her, smiling gently. "You will stay with us and rest. You've earned it."

"Thank you," Alice breathed out. "Now, what can I do to help with dinner?"

That evening, working side by side in the kitchen with Marta, Alice realized a dream she'd not known that she had. She'd dedicated her life to the resistance, fighting in the war the only way she could, and she'd long since prepared herself to give up her life for it should she ever be discovered. She'd never truly allowed herself to dream what it might be like to have a _normal_ life… to have a family of her own, the safe haven of a home untouched by war.

But just for tonight, she permitted herself to indulge in that dream. She let herself imagine building a life and a home that included a husband and children, safety and normalcy. She allowed herself to dream that her home was with Jasper, that it was his golden haired children toddling at her feet.

She imagined quiet family dinners, evenings spent around the hearth. Jasper reading stories to their children as their eyes drifted shut in sleep, tucking them safely in their beds. She imagined crawling into bed alongside him, loving him in the quietness of the night… waking next to him with the rising of the sun.

Her eyes, laden with longing, watched him as he came in from the barn. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, dirt smudged on his cheeks and his bared forearms. She had to force herself to look away as he washed up, lathering the soap suds over his arms. The rippling of muscle with his every movement was suddenly entrancing.

She would have been mortified had he known the direction of her thoughts, the tension that knotted in her innermost being. Her eyes were constantly drawn to him. Yet every time she glanced his way it was to find his eyes already turned towards her.

He watched her with an expression she couldn't quite put a name to. It was the same inscrutable look he'd regarded her with since she'd told him her story on the train… admiration, perhaps… and longing. She was almost certain she saw her own desire reflected in his eyes.

When darkness fell and everyone had retired to their rooms for the night, she sat on the edge of her bed, in a velvet cocoon of quietness, stroking the brush through her hair. She'd long since worked through all her tangles, but the repetitive stroking was soothing. She was much too anxious inside for sleep.

Jasper was in the very next room, separated from her by only a thin wall… only he wasn't sleeping either. She could hear him stirring around, knew he was still awake. And she wondered if his thoughts bore any shadow of resemblance to hers.

She longed to go to him, to lay in his arms just for tonight… to touch him… to _be_ touched by him… to satisfy the desires that had been building since the very first time she'd seen him walking towards her.

If she didn't, if she gave in to reason instead of to her heart, would she ever have the chance again? Somehow she doubted it.

Still wavering inside, she stood, her feet carrying her almost of their own volition to the door. Butterflies danced in her stomach as her hand rested on the door knob, waiting for her mind to catch up to her body.

Reason said to turn around, to go back to her own bed and forget this insanity. But her heart and her body wouldn't listen.

Her entire body hummed with breathless desire as her mind conjured up images of slipping into his room, sliding between the blankets with him… her limbs tangling with his.

It was quiet in his room now… she couldn't hear any sound from his side of the wall. Was he sleeping? Would he be startled if she woke him with her lips on his?

Or, maybe, just maybe, could he possibly be lying there awake… expecting her? Could he possibly want her with the same desperate yearning she felt for him?

Her heart thudded wildly in her chest like she'd been running a race. She could feel her body trembling in anticipation… in indecision.

But in the end, it wasn't her decision to make alone.

Knuckles tapped lightly outside her door, so quietly that, had she been sleeping, she never would have heard. Placing her hand over her heart, trying to calm its rapid thrumming, she took a deep breath and opened her door.

Jasper was standing there, still in his trousers and blue shirt from dinner. His shirt was untucked, the top three buttons open, revealing the muscled lines of his chest. His hair was mussed, his eyes deep and intent as they locked with hers. Her breath caught at the expression simmering there. There was no mistaking the desire harbored there… not this time.

Taking her lower lip between her teeth, she stepped back, allowing him into the room. He shut the door quietly behind him, his eyes drifting over her form. She was very aware that only a thin nightgown hid her from his view… and she knew the silky gown did nothing to hide her body's current state of desire, nor the effect that his presence had on her.

What she didn't know was what an incredibly alluring picture she made to the man standing before her. She didn't know that her hair shone a deep chestnut brown, tumbling down her shoulders, begging him to run his fingers through the glossy strands. She didn't know that the glow from the fire burning in the hearth made her skin glow or that desire had flushed her cheeks a rosy pink. She didn't know that her lips were red and moist from worrying them with her teeth.

She didn't know how desperately he wanted to slide that thin white gown from her slender body, revealing her curves for his hands and eyes to learn.

With slow, tentative steps he covered the distance between them, his eyes never leaving hers. He held her gaze, his eyes stormy and deep, as he raised his hands to cup her face between his palms. His hands were rough and calloused, tenderly abrading her skin as he stroked against her cheekbones, but warm and so gentle.

The heady scent of his cologne made her head swim as he drew nearer… slowly, so slowly. He gave her more than enough time to protest should she want to, but she didn't. Instead, she stepped forward, into his warmth, as she leaned into him.

Heat pooled in her stomach as his lips brushed against hers lightly, as if learning their feel. The same currents of electricity that she felt every time she touched him ignited under her skin. Her hands went to his waist as his lips parted slightly, kissing first her upper lip and then the lower. She could feel the heat of his skin radiating through the fabric of his shirt, and she longed to slide her hands underneath, to be rid of the barrier that hid the flesh beneath her hands.

His hands moved from her face to stroke the glossy strands of her hair, tracing the soft skin of her neck. She trembled when his finger traced her collar bone, dipping into the hollow of her throat before drifting over her shoulders. His hands slid down her arms, wrapping around her waist to draw her nearer.

His lips became more seeking against hers, pressing harder than before, and she welcomed it. She leaned into him, parting her lips for the gentle probe of his tongue. A shiver snaked itself up her spine as she felt the moist heat tracing her lips, dipping inside. Tentatively, her tongue searched for his, stroking him deeper into the heat of her mouth.

Neither had any concept of the passing of time as they stood there, the only sounds the crackling of the logs in the hearth and their own unsteady breathing as a different kind of fire altogether was smoldering into flame, their bodies meshing together… softness meeting firm, unyielding flesh.

Much too soon for Alice's liking, he pulled away. But on some inner level, she was pleased to see that his breathing was just as ragged as hers, his lips swollen from their kisses, his eyes hooded and intense.

"I've been wanting to do that all day." His voice was raspy and thick with desire. "No, actually that's not entirely true…" he confessed, ducking his head slightly. "I've been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you."

Alice's breath left her body in a rush. "You have? Really?"

"Yes, really." One corner of his mouth turned up in a smile that seemed slightly sheepish. "I couldn't believe my luck when I saw you sitting there in the café that day. I took one look at you, and, somehow, I felt like I already knew you. And then I find out that, not only are you beautiful, you're even more amazing on the inside. I'm still not quite convinced that you're real… I almost think I've imagined you all this time."

Alice felt a blush stain her cheeks at his words. "I've thought the same thing about you… many times," she admitted quietly.

She could feel the vibrations from his chuckle as closely as she stood against him. "You think I'm beautiful?" he teased, leaning his forehead against hers, attempting to lighten the mood slightly.

"You know you are," she said, clasping her arms just a little bit tighter around him.

This close to him, she could see the darkening of his eyes, a window to his desire. His lips found hers again, his hand curving against the small of her back, burning through the silky fabric of her nightgown. Heat flared between them as their bodies melded together like two halves of a whole.

Separated by only two thin barriers, her heart pounded against his chest, her breasts aching, their tips tightening as he pressed her as closely as he could. And yet not close enough.

He could feel the reaction of her body to their embrace, and it drove nearly all rational thought from his mind. She was warm and soft in his arms, so responsive to his touch. It was heady and thrilling and he wanted so much more. Her body told him she did as well.

"Where were you going earlier?" he asked, nipping lightly at her lips.

It took all her effort to find coherent thought, scattered as they were by his closeness and his intoxicating touch.

"You know… where I was going," she gasped as his lips trailed over her jaw, finding with deadly accuracy the sensitive hollow behind her ear.

"Tell me to stop, Alice, and I'll stop," he breathed into her ear. She shivered at the sensation, moaning breathlessly as he kissed a warm, moist path down her neck.

Alice could barely breathe as she arched her neck, offering him better access, feeling fire course through her veins at his every touch. "Don't stop," she whispered. "Please don't stop."

That was all he needed to hear.

His mouth sought hers with a new kind of urgency, his hands roaming over her back and her sides, feeling the softness of her flesh beneath the silky fabric of her gown. But even that thin barrier was too much. It was in his way.

Not breaking their kiss, he led her towards the bed, not stopping until her knees bumped into the mattress. Once there, she let him lower her down, offering no protest when he followed her onto the bed, kneeling over her.

Alice couldn't think, she could only feel as his hands caressed her over her nightgown, teasing at her breasts, becoming bolder at her moans of pleasure. She arched up into his touch as he cupped the weight of her breasts in his palms. They moaned in unison as he teased the tender flesh, pinching the tips lightly between his fingers. Lightning bolts of pleasure darted from her breasts to the aching flesh between her legs.

Her hands went to the opening in his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of flesh under her hands, to attempt to make him feel even a fraction of the pleasure he was drawing from her. Trembling hands worked the buttons from their holes, revealing the muscled planes of his chest. Never taking his lips from hers, he helped her shed his shirt, dropping it heedlessly to the floor.

Her hands eagerly explored the contours of his chest, his abdomen, his back. His skin was warm and smooth against her searching touch, the light dusting of hair on his chest tickling her fingertips, the ridges of his spine and his ribs a fascinating study.

She didn't think to try to stop him when he reached for her buttons next. His fingers grazed each inch of newly revealed skin as he released them, his touch so much more intense without the hindrance of fabric between them.

He took his time, exploring her as she did with him, their hands racing over heated flesh, finding and discovering the difference between hard and soft, man and woman. Their clothes were tossed recklessly aside as the fire burned higher and higher, brighter and brighter, between them.

The room was filled with a chorus of breathless moans, gasps of pleasure, and groans as the pleasure became too much to bear. Finally, when their desire reached heights neither had ever dreamed of before – when they could wait no longer – he reached between them and slowly, with infinite care, joined his body with hers.

Long into the night they loved each other, unable to find a point where they'd had enough. Finally, when their bodies were exhausted, they collapsed in a tangle of limbs, both coated with a thin sheen of sweat, their lungs panting for air.

Jasper pulled her onto his chest, holding her until they both caught their breath. Even though they were both spent, his hand was drawn to caress the satin skin of her back, unable to stop touching her even now. He smiled when he felt her contented sigh against his chest, her lips pressing softly to the place where his heart beat.

For a long time, they simply lay there quietly, basking in the glow that enveloped them after their lovemaking, each of them lost to their own thoughts. When Jasper finally spoke, the directions of those thoughts left Alice all but speechless.

"Marry me," he said unexpectedly, breaking their contented silence.

"What?" she pulled back in surprise. "Why? I mean… I wasn't expecting that. I didn't mean… I'm not…" She ducked her head, embarrassed by her flustered response and mortified when he barked out a laugh.

He tucked his fingers under her chin, lifting her face again and brushing a kiss to the corner of her lips. Reaching for her hand, he traced her fingers, raising them to kiss each of them as well. "Shall I list the reasons why?" he asked, his voice low and silky, caressing every last nerve ending in her body.

"First," he traced the length of her forefinger, "I absolutely adore you. I've never met anyone like you before, Alice, with your strength, your courage, your passion, and your conviction. You are a rare and wonderful kind of woman. As breathtakingly beautiful as you are on the outside, your heart is even more lovely.

"Second," he traced her middle finger, "you remind me once again of _why_ I'm fighting. It's easy to get discouraged, to see how little I truly accomplish compared to what still remains to be done. It's so easy to grow weary, thinking that I'm fighting a battle that no one ever sees. And it's so terribly easy to become oppressed by the evil that surrounds me every day. But, when I'm with you, I'm reminded that goodness does still exist. I remember that I can't save everyone. But I can still try. I remember that my effort isn't in vain.

"And thirdly," he traced her ring finger, lingering on the gold band that she still wore, "you remind me of how precious life is… and not only precious, but how incredibly fragile. We aren't guaranteed a tomorrow, or even the next hour… not even our next breath. All we have is this moment. You've made me see how important it is to live the days we're given so that we have no regrets. We have to seize the moment we're in because we might not have another."

He took their joined hands and placed them over his heart. "I don't know what the future might hold, Alice, but one thing I do know, whatever my future brings, I want to spend the rest of it with you."

Alice's eyes slid shut as tears escaped, trailing a warm, salty path down her cheeks. She laid her head against his chest, hearing the steady, even beating of his heart – her own personal lullaby – as his fingers stroked through the waves of her hair.

"Yes," she whispered, placing a tender kiss to the warm skin of his chest.

Jasper framed her face in his hands, making her look at him, searching her eyes to ensure that he hadn't dreamt her response. "Yes?"

She nodded. "I love you," she whispered with trembling voice, "I have from the very start. I've dreamed about what it might be like to hear those words from you, but I never actually thought…"

His lips cut off her words, fervent and hungry, as his hands tangled in her hair. When he pulled back, his entire face was alight with the brilliance of his smile… a smile that Alice couldn't help responding to. His mouth found hers again, speaking without words what was in his heart… and that was a language that Alice understood completely.

The next morning, they slipped into town and were married in a quiet ceremony. There was no fanfare, no celebration, no guests to rejoice with them. It was simply a legal binding and recognition of the bond that already existed.

For two days, they stayed wrapped in their perfect little bubble, able to pretend that this life was their reality. But as they boarded the train back to Vienna, they knew that it wasn't. The children were safe and the jewels were being distributed to their destinations. Their work was done, and now it was time to return to their individual war fronts.

Before they departed the train, he kissed her, reminding her once again that he loved her… no matter what… that they'd find ways to be together again. He presented her with a simple gold chain for her to wear her ring so that it was hidden from view but still on her person, resting against her heart.

It was almost like tearing off her own flesh to part from him, but she had no choice. When she returned home, her family could tell that something wasn't right, but they didn't press for answers. And she didn't give any. Just for now, she wanted to keep her relationship with Jasper just between the two of them.

And she knew as well, that it would be absolutely disastrous for Jasper if it became known that he'd taken a wife from a family that his Fatherland had deemed a disgrace and necessary to destroy.

They tried to find time to be together, but their stolen moments were few and far between… and much, much too brief. Her heart ached without him. Each morning, she awoke to find her pillow dampened with her tears, her hand reaching out only to find the space beside her empty.

For three months, she kept her secret before she simply had to take her mother-figure into her confidence. She knew Esme was terribly troubled at seeing her so upset, and she desperately needed a shoulder to lean on. To her great relief, her family was supportive of her marriage and even helped to facilitate her meetings with Jasper whenever they could.

It wasn't often that he could make his way to her home, and too dangerous for him to attempt frequently – they couldn't afford to have suspicions aroused – but he did try.

As the months passed, the iron fist of German control tightened more and more. Alice's trips over the border became less and less frequent until she finally had to stop altogether or risk discovery. Before Jasper's arrival in her life, she wouldn't have given it a second thought, she could afford to be reckless. But now she had him to consider as well. And she wouldn't do that to him, not if she could avoid it. Jasper pleaded with her to get out of Austria while she still could, but she refused. She was going to stay with him as long as she possibly could.

Jasper was promoted yet again, rising from Major to Colonel. With the added responsibility of his new position and the increasing danger of discovery, their stolen moments together grew further and further apart.

Alice watched the strain of living under such close scrutiny wearing on him. She noticed he'd begun to lose weight, lines of stress and worry etching themselves around his eyes and his mouth.

Holding him in her arms, she watched him as he slept, content to simply lie with him for now. She knew he'd be upset with himself when he woke. He never wanted to waste what little time they had together by sleeping, but she knew he needed it. She doubted that he slept much anymore when he wasn't with her.

With a gently caressing finger, she traced the deep circles under his eyes. She stroked along the length of his spine as he lay with his head pillowed on her breast. She counted each of his deep, even breaths as they fanned over her chest, each slow steady beat of his heart… still her favorite lullaby.

In sleep was the only time she ever saw true peace on his features now. She was growing worried. It was common knowledge in his division that there was a traitor, but they didn't yet know who it was. Jasper was toeing the line and being as cautious as he could, but they couldn't help but wonder how much longer he had… how much longer any of them had for that matter.

It was only a matter of time.

But little did they know how short their time truly was.

Only days later, Alice was putting her folded clothes away in her drawers after doing laundry all day. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the loud bang of the door being thrown open downstairs. A familiar surge of adrenaline immediately shot through her body as she dropped her clean clothes on the floor, clutching at her chest in attempt to calm her racing heart.

She'd lived on the edge of danger for too long, come too close to being discovered too many times. Her body prepared itself for fight or flight, her heart pounding a rapid tattoo in her chest.

Footsteps pounded fierce and heavy in the front of the house, and a voice yelled frantically up the stairs – a voice she would recognize from any corner of the earth.

"Alice!" Jasper yelled with a note in his voice she'd never heard before. "Alice!"

Her body locked in place, her muscles freezing in terror for a split second before she was even able to make her feet move. She raced down the stairs, fear making her knees weak.

Jasper had always seemed unshakable to her, a stalwart soldier. She'd always imagined him the kind of man that could stand in front of a firing squad and not show fear, not lose the fight in his eyes. Never once had she seen, or even imagined, him afraid of anything… not until now.

Having heard Jasper's shouting, Edward ran in from the back, his own eyes wide and frantic, knowing immediately that something was terribly wrong. "What's going on?" his eyes darted back and forth between them, looking for answers.

Without even glancing at Edward, Jasper raced immediately to Alice's side and grasped her arms in his hands, turning her towards the direction of the tunnels. "They know," he said with a shaking voice. "They've found you. They're on their way. You have to get out. You both have to get out now."

"How did they find us?" Edward asked, falling into step with them as they raced down the stairs to the basement.

"It doesn't matter how. They know about at least three stations in the Underground that I'm aware of. There may be more. I threw them off as long as I could, but they'll be here any minute."

"My parents…" began Edward, panic written on his features, "they're in town."

"They're being intercepted before they leave the market," Jasper assured him. "One of our agents will take them into protective custody and get them out. They'll rejoin you once you get over the border.

"Do they know about you?" Alice asked, clutching tightly to his hand, terror melding into her very bones.

"If they don't now, they soon will." There was something in his voice that made bile rise in her throat. Fear made her stomach churn until she thought she would be sick. His resolve and resignation rang clear and unmistakable.

"Here," he said, reaching into the breast pocket of his coat with his free hand and pulling out an envelope, handing it to Edward "False identification and papers that should get you through the sentries to cross the border. You're getting out of Austria tonight."

It shouldn't have been possible for Alice's stomach to knot any more, but somehow it did. Tears burned her eyes as she struggled to find her voice. "What do you mean? You're coming with us." She hated the weakness in her voice, the trembling that made it difficult to speak – hated that it even came across as a question instead of the statement that she wanted it to be.

"I'll be right behind you, Alice. But I have to get you safely away first."

"You're lying to me." Tears choked her, clouding her vision. She knew he didn't mean it. If he didn't come now, there would be no following after later. He wouldn't be able to.

"I don't have a choice, Alice," his voice pleaded with her for understanding as he pulled aside the panel that hid their secret room. "There's too much here for them to find. People will die, and the Underground will be compromised. I can't let that happen if I can do anything to stop it."

"But – " she started to protest.

"Alice, there's no time," he said, his words laced heavily with a desperation she'd never heard from him before.

"Jasper, please – "

His lips abruptly cut off her desperate plea. His arms enveloped her tightly, betraying his own inner torment. She felt his heart thundering against her chest as she fisted her hands into his coat, forgetting their one-man audience as she responded to him with equal fervency, pouring every last measure of the love she felt for him into the joining of their lips.

They'd shared many kisses over the time they'd been together. But none like this before. This kiss tasted of goodbye. And they both knew it.

A single tear tracked down her cheek, slipping into the juncture of their lips before he pulled away. He'd tasted her tear… tasting her grief and taking it into his own body… even while his own heart was cracking in two.

In the dim light of the cellar, she could see the moisture shining in his eyes as he pushed her away, propelling her into the opening of the tunnel.

"Come with me, _please_," she begged one last time, clutching his hand as if it was her lifeline.

"I love you," he whispered in a voice strained taut with emotion. "No matter what happens, I'll always love you… more than my own life." The last words were spoken so low she almost thought she imagined them for a moment.

She felt a scream bubbling up inside when he tore his hand away from hers. The reality of their situation hit her with the force of a nuclear blast. Her body shook violently as he handed her off to Edward, pushing them farther in.

"Edward, take her please," he begged in a strangled voice. "Get her out of here. You have to go… now. _Run_!"

Jasper didn't wait any longer, closing the panel and sealing them inside. And run they did. Though her feet felt like they were chained to the ground, weighted with iron, she let Edward lead her along, propelling her through the darkness. They both knew passageway backwards and forwards, having passed through it countless times in the past.

Behind them, Jasper felt his heart drop to his feet as he slammed the panel to the passageway shut. His head fell forward, slamming against the wall as he fought with all his might against the tears that burned his eyes. "Don't look back," he breathed through gritted teeth, though he knew both Alice and Edward were long past the point of hearing.

He counted out the seconds, giving them as much time as he could to put a safe distance between them and the house. He had a plan, and he needed them to be well out of the way for it to work as it was intended to. In the distance, he thought he could hear the distinct wail of sirens, but it could have simply been the ringing in his own ears.

His fear was strong, but his determination was stronger. He knew what he had to do. And he knew the cost. But that cost was one he was willing to pay.

Finally, he knew he could safely wait no longer. He snatched out the bomb he'd had sequestered in his coat pocket. It was small and crude, but it would serve his purpose. He placed it in the middle of the cellar amid all the evidence that could tie them to the Underground and set the timer to detonate in two and a half minutes. That would hopefully buy him enough time to get out, and, if he was lucky, would give the approaching soldiers on his tail time enough to get in its range.

When everything was set, he ran back up to the ground level, hearing the sounds of the sirens growing louder and louder… closer and closer.

His heart thundered in his chest as he ran out the front door – in the opposite direction he'd sent Edward and Alice. He was determined to lead the soldiers away from them. He darted into the cover of the brush, hiding there, biding his time. He crouched as low to the ground as he could as the black car raced to the front of the house, coming to a screeching halt.

Five guards, dressed from head to toe in their black uniforms, jumped out of the car, guns cocked and ready as they stormed into the house, exactly as Jasper had hoped. He counted down the seconds after they disappeared inside, waiting… waiting.

Finally, with an explosion that could be heard for miles around, the house burst into flames, a billowing cloud of smoke pluming in the sky. Debris rained down around Jasper's head. With a sense of satisfaction, he noted that all five guards had been inside when it happened.

But this fight wasn't over yet. Not even close.

Another truck filled with soldiers came to a quick, grinding halt mere yards away from his hiding place. He heard orders being barked to comb the area and search for survivors. No one was to escape.

That was his cue.

With his gun cocked, he leapt from the cover of the bushes and opened fire. There was confusion at first as they all whirled around to discern the origin of the shots. His first two bullets found their mark as two of the seven soldiers immediately fell to the ground, their eyes wide open, yet seeing nothing. Death had claimed their sight.

Chaos ensued after that. Firing rapidly, blindly, Jasper led them in the opposite direction, away from Alice and Edward. Oddly enough, it was with a great sense of relief that he discovered that all five remaining were in pursuit of him. Surely by this time, Alice would have had enough of a head start to make it across the border to safety.

He had used himself as the bait to lure them away from her.

And they had taken it… just as he had hoped.

He heard them closing in on him, though he pushed his body to its limit, running faster than he ever had in his life. Bullets zinged through the air around him, whizzing past his ears.

It took a split second after one made impact to realize what had happened. He stumbled forward as a searing pain pierced his side. The force of it sent him falling to his knees.

Automatically, his hand flew to his injured side, covering the wound. Spots danced around his vision. He felt light-headed.

Dazed, he pulled his hand back. Bright red blood covered his fingers, dripping from his palm. His stomach churned. He glanced down to see blood oozing from his side, his jacket stained a deep, dark crimson.

Another blast ripped through his shoulder. He groaned from deep within, the cry torn from his lips. His limbs felt weighted now… weak… as his life's blood saturated the ground at his feet.

Vaguely, he was aware of the thundering sound of heavy boot-clad feet swarming in around him. He felt hands being laid on him, dragging him roughly to his feet. But his body refused to cooperate. Pain and blood loss made him woozy.

As the minutes passed, he felt detached from everything happening to him, as if he was observing at all from a distance. It all felt like something out of a nightmare. It felt surreal.

He could feel himself fading, his consciousness slowly slipping away.

He'd heard it said that when death was closing in, a man's life flashed before his eyes. But that wasn't the case for him. No deep, profound thoughts crossed his mind.

The only thing he saw as the darkness crept in was Alice's face flickering behind his eyelids.

A wave of love washed over his heart, deep and intense.

He knew no matter his fate, as long as she was safe, _he had won_.

With that one brief, triumphant thought, the world gradually faded away around him.

And the darkness closed in.


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

Alice felt as if she was walking through some kind of horrific nightmare, waiting to wake up, as they made it to the end of the tunnel and climbed up to the surface again. In the distance, back at the house, they could hear the glaring sounds of sirens, a harsh cacophony of noise.

She saw and heard it all as if through a bubble; she couldn't make herself believe that this was real. Her mind ceased to function. She was reduced to sensation.

The sound of sirens. Footsteps, hers and Edward's, racing through the cover of trees. Their heavy breathing, panting for air. Yelling back at the house. An explosion that made the earth shake under her feet.

"Get down!" Edward yelled, grabbing hold of her and shoving her to the ground. He covered her body with his as pieces of what had once been their home flew through the air around them.

The earth beneath her was cold and damp, chilling her to the bone, but she barely even noticed.

She didn't protest when Edward yanked her back to her feet and propelled her forward again. She didn't have even the will to do so.

Shouting.

Rapid rounds of gunfire.

Cries of pain as bullets found their mark.

And, hearing that, a part of her died inside. She knew. Without being told, she knew. Her heart recognized Jasper's cry.

Her body would have crumpled to the ground had Edward not been supporting her. Soundless sobs were wrenched from the deepest part of her soul as every step bore her farther and farther away from where she knew she needed to be.

At Jasper's side.

Sharing his fate with him.

But that was not to be.

"Alice," Edward's voice broke through the haze of her mind. He shook her lightly. "We have to go." Though barely more than a whisper, his words conveyed his urgency. "We have to keep moving."

"But Jasper…" she choked as his name passed her lips.

"He sacrificed his life for you, Alice… he wanted you to live. Don't let that sacrifice be in vain."

He was right. She knew he was right. That was what Jasper had wanted. Even if it wasn't what _she_ wanted.

Blindly, numbly, she let Edward lead her through the dense cover of the trees, running to safety. Running to freedom.

That numbness stayed with her for days… when they fled over the border to Switzerland… when they were flown into London and reunited there with Carlisle and Esme. Alice responded mechanically to their embraces, feeling relief on some inner level that they were alive and well but unable to truly feel anything deeply. She was still too much in shock.

It was there they were told that Jasper's family, as well as Jasper himself, had made the ultimate sacrifice. The General's involvement had been discovered; their estate had been invaded and burned to the ground. Their bodies had been found inside later. The propaganda ministry was calling it an act of violence on the part of the Allied Underground. It wouldn't do for a German war hero to be found a traitor. It was bad for morale.

Jasper's death was reported days later in much the same manner. It was coated in lies, but they all knew the truth.

All four of them, Carlisle and Esme, Alice and Edward, were thanked for their tireless work for the Allied cause and assured that their sacrifices were noted and appreciated. That their labors had been a valuable asset to the war effort.

Listening to them, Alice wanted to scream. Twice now she'd lost everything that mattered anything to her. She'd lost too much for one person to bear. And yet she was still alive. Whether she wanted to be or not.

She hadn't done what she had to be thanked. She'd done it because she felt it was right. And it had cost her _everything_. There were no words that could ever restore what she'd sacrificed.

For weeks, she struggled to feel anything beyond the thick haze of depression. She couldn't cry. She couldn't eat. She couldn't sleep. Her body seemed to shut down.

She just felt _sick_. Inside and out.

Throughout all of that time, Edward was her rock. He appointed himself as her comforter, holding her, rocking her back and forth when she hurt too much to even cry. He didn't try to talk to her, he didn't offer empty words or condolences. He was just _there,_ letting her know in a silent way that she wasn't alone.

Days after their escape, Alice was informed that Jasper had opened several Swiss bank accounts under her name. Between all of them, she would be able to live comfortably for years without ever having to work if she chose.

After discovering that, she wondered if somehow he'd known this was coming, if he'd had some sort of intuition about it. They'd both known it was a dreadful possibility, but she'd never considered that he would have taken measures to provide for her should he be taken away. She should have known that was just the kind of thing he would do – providing for her even if he wasn't physically with her.

Yet even that didn't penetrate the fog of despair. She didn't care about his money… she was grateful of course, but that wasn't any kind of substitute for having him there.

Eventually, the four of them settled in a home, surrounded again by a normalcy they'd almost forgotten, living as they had under the iron curtain of Nazi control.

Esme had always been a motherly sort. She'd nursed Alice through her grief after her parents' deaths, and she threw herself into that role again now. She did everything she knew to do in attempt to draw Alice out of her comatose state. She loved on her any way that she could. She plied her with home cooked meals, tempting her to eat when her appetite failed, working – albeit in vain – to coax some form of life back into her.

They all three rallied around her like the family she had so long considered them. And she tried… she truly did. But it was just so hard to care about anything now. She just didn't see the point anymore. Nothing mattered to her now… not now that he was gone. She had nothing left.

In the end, her will to survive came from the most unexpected source.

Jasper had laid down his life so that she could live. Yet at the same time, even beyond the grave, he was the one to give her back a reason _to _live.

Weeks after fleeing Austria, she'd felt an unusual tiny, fluttering movement inside that she'd never experienced before. She'd not known what it was when it happened the first time. But she'd soon realized that, though his life had been stolen from him, a small part of Jasper had escaped his murderers' clutches – this child of his she sheltered inside her womb.

The realization of that was when she'd finally been able to cry for the first time. She cried for what she'd lost. She cried for the gift she'd been given. She cried for the thought that the man whom she'd loved more than life itself would never have the chance to know the life he'd created with her.

Eight months after Jasper's death, when she held her child, her tiny little son, in her arms for the first time, a love like she'd never felt before encompassed her entire being. This one tiny person depended on her to be father and mother both. She'd been entrusted with a precious gift in the midst of a heinous loss.

Alice had held her son closely to her breast, minutes after his birth, and traced his tiny features, touching his little button nose, counting his fingers and toes, marveling at the perfection he represented in a twisted and broken world. She'd wanted nothing more than to protect him from anything that could hurt him… to shield him from the cruelty that had torn his family apart even before his arrival.

In the months and years that followed, Alice learned to live again… one slow, painful step at a time.

The war came to an end. Armistice was declared. Too little too late. Alice and Edward, Carlisle and Esme, and little Isaac, moved to America, to Chicago, where Esme's sister and family lived. They picked up the shambled pieces of their lives and attempted to begin anew.

It wasn't easy, but for Isaac and his need of her, for the memory of Jasper and his sacrifice for her, for the Cullens and their support when she needed it most, she lived on.

She learned to smile again. She remembered how to laugh… even though she was never quite the same. She'd left all innocence and dreams behind when she'd left her husband, her lover, her everything, behind, helpless to do anything except the one thing he'd asked… that she live on even when he couldn't.

If Isaac was her joy, then Edward was her rock. He'd been there waiting at the hospital, pacing in the hallways, when her son had been born. He'd smiled down at her when he was allowed in the room after the delivery was over, kissing her on the forehead and telling her she'd done "a damn good job." He'd held Isaac and rocked him, caring for him during the days that followed, so that Alice could sleep when the infant's crying kept her awake all night.

When Isaac was older, Edward had been the one to teach him to throw a ball, to ride a bike, to do the things a boy just needed a man to show him.

Alice knew that deep down, Carlisle and Esme hoped that she and Edward would settle down together, that they'd make her place in their family legal and official at last. She'd tried to love Edward, she really had. And she did. But only as the brother she'd always thought of him as. As much as she loved him, as much as she appreciated the role he played in her son's life, she just couldn't love him _that_ way… the way a woman needed to love the man she intended to spend her life with.

For a time, she'd wondered if it was fair to compare the love she'd had for Jasper to any other. Her connection with Jasper had been deep and all encompassing. Their souls had been one. And even death couldn't steal that away.

They'd not had all that long to share their love before it was so cruelly ripped away, but the length of time didn't matter. It had been a lasting love.

Alice had known a love that most people never experienced, and she'd eventually resigned herself to the fact that she'd never feel that kind of connection with anyone again.

She'd had her one true love… for however short a time.

But should that stop her from living now? Now that he was gone? He wouldn't want that, she knew. Jasper would want her to be happy.

Edward loved her, he showed her that every day just by being there. He loved her son in a way that no one else could. She knew she could always count on him. And she didn't know what she would have done all these years without him.

But deep in her heart, she knew it wasn't right. She couldn't make herself feel something for him that she didn't, and he deserved so much better.

She'd told him that. She told him that he deserved someone who could love him with their whole heart, not crudely mended remnants of one. He deserved the chance to find the kind of love she'd known with Jasper… the love that transcended even death.

Edward had just nodded, a sad, tired smile playing at his lips. He'd enveloped her in his arms and told her that her decision changed nothing, that if she changed her mind to simply let him know.

But she didn't. And later she was glad… they both were. Isabella Swan had had entered their lives, and Edward had fallen hopelessly, madly in love with her. He looked at her like the sun rose and set with her, like the meaning of life was spoken in her every word. And she loved him back in exactly the same way. The two were married in a small, intimate ceremony in the summer of 1949.

Alice couldn't have been happier for them. Edward had found his match, and it was everything she'd hoped it would be for him. She'd contented herself to live the life she'd been granted, satisfied with those she'd been given to love.

There were times, especially seeing Edward and Isabella in their newly wedded bliss, that the longing to be loved like that was almost overwhelming. She missed the presence of a man in her life… she missed Jasper… unbearably.

She missed having someone to counsel with when making decisions, whether big or small. She missed the warmth of a man's body curved around hers in the stillness of the night, the firm feel of his chest rising and falling against her as they drifted into sleep. She missed the tender strength of a man's arms holding her like she was something to be cherished and desired. She missed the sparks she'd felt from being touched… kissed… caressed.

But she'd had a love that defied description. She'd known the love of a man who'd truly loved her more than his own life – and he'd proven that in an undeniable way by laying down his life for hers… a man she would have gladly made the same sacrifice for if asked.

Anything less than that seemed a poor substitution. An imitation of the real thing. And she wasn't willing to settle for that. She couldn't. It seemed a sacrilege to Jasper's memory… to everything they'd shared.

The only man in her life right now was Isaac.

Alice had no pictures of Jasper, no memento of his, for there had been no time to grab anything on the night she and Edward had escaped. But she didn't truly need anything else to remember him by. She only had to look into Isaac's face to see Jasper.

He was his father's son through and through. Anyone who'd known Jasper would only have to take one look at Isaac to know his paternity. There was very little of Alice to be found in his appearance. He had the set of her eyes, the shape of her ears, but everything else was the mirror image of Jasper.

He was tall just like his father, boyishly lanky for now though she knew he would fill out in time. At only seven years old, he already stood to his mother's shoulder, a fact that thrilled him to no end. She knew it wouldn't be too long before he was taller than her.

Isaac had the same ocean blue eyes, the same honey blonde hair that curled into ringlets when it grew out, much to his chagrin. Alice wondered if Jasper's hair had been curly like that. She'd never seen it long enough to curl, but she knew her son didn't get that from her.

The shape of Isaac's mouth, the line of his nose, all of it was like looking at the face of her husband… only as a child.

He even had the same kind of easy-going personality, the same charisma, the same way with people that Jasper had possessed. He had a knack for persuading people to see things his way, an earnestness in his wide blue eyes that was impossible to resist. He was bright and loving, and his smiles were the light of his mother's life.

Perhaps one of the hardest things Alice encountered as Isaac grew older was answering his questions about his father. How was one supposed to explain that kind of love and self-sacrifice to a child? How did one tell a little boy that his father had loved his mother so much that he'd given up his own life so that she could live?

How did one explain so that a child could understand that his father and mother had believed in a cause so strongly that they'd been willing to die for it… for the people who would be saved through their efforts?

How did one explain war to a child without destroying their innocence… especially when their life had been irrevocably touched by it long before their birth?

Alice didn't entirely know.

She told him stories about his father… all the little things she could remember. She told him about his bravery and his courage. How he'd believed in what he'd done so much that he'd poured his whole self into it. She told him about his dedication and determination. But most of all, she told him about how much he'd loved them… how proud he would have been of his son… how happy he must be if he was looking down on him from heaven.

Jasper was a presence in his son's life as surely as if he'd known of his existence – a hero in his eyes. Alice had made sure of that.

It was a quiet, balmy summer night in 1952. Alice had spent the afternoon baking cookies and pies for the church bazaar she was to attend that night. Isaac had helped her in the kitchen for most of the afternoon, or rather he had sneaked bites of the dough as he mixed it for her and called it helping.

Alice had swatted at his hands with her wooden spoon, but Isaac had looked up at her with his blue eyes twinkling and she'd been entirely unable to scold him. She'd sent him into the living room to read when she'd taken the cookies out of the oven, leaving them on the counter to cool, and went upstairs to dress.

Isaac was lying on his stomach when she came back down, propped up on his elbows as he pored over his book. She smiled lovingly at the sight, leaning against the doorway. Not a moment went by that she wasn't thankful beyond belief for her son. Aside from Jasper himself, he was the very best thing that had ever happened to her, and she loved him more than mere words could ever express.

She was humming quietly to herself as she went into the kitchen to wrap up the cookies. Edward and Bella would be here in just a few minutes to pick her up so they could ride together.

"Mom," Isaac's voice called from the living room, "there's someone at the door."

Alice glanced at the clock and rolled her eyes. Edward was ten minutes early. After all these years, she knew he hated few things more than being late. "It's just Uncle Edward," she called back to him. He'd come in on his own, he always did.

Alice heard the quiet knock when it came the second time. "Mom, they're still out there," Isaac told her again.

Alice wiped her hands on her apron, and walked into the living room, running her hand lovingly over Isaac's tousled curls as she passed. He reached up and smoothed them back down, but behind his feigned frustration, she saw that he was pleased by her affectionate gesture. He was growing so quickly, but he was still her little boy.

She was still smiling when she opened the door. "Since when do you knock – " Her voice cut off abruptly as she realized that it wasn't Edward standing there.

Her stomach lurched, and, on some level, she realized that she wasn't breathing. She couldn't. Her body froze… her mind completely unable to process what she saw right in front of her.

"Alice?"

She heard the tentative, uncertain voice calling her name as if from underwater… it seemed to come from a great distance away. She couldn't respond. Her voice wouldn't work. And only vaguely did she realize that the floor seemed to be rising up to meet her.

She barely registered the fact that warm, strong arms met her before the cold, hard floor… the worried face of the man as he lifted her to his chest… the frightened voice of her son… before the world faded to black.

"What did you to my mother?" Isaac had jumped to his feet, his hands balled into fists, when he saw his mother's distress.

Isaac didn't realize it, but the man holding his mother nearly dropped her when he saw him standing there. The man's eyes went wide with disbelief as he noted the features of the young boy… features he would recognize anywhere.

They were his own.

"Why is the front door standing open?" Edward asked as he jogged up the walk and into the house. The smile on his face froze as he took in the scene playing out in front of him. His eyes went wide, his breath freezing in his chest.

"J—Jasper?" He stammered, his voice coming out as barely a croak. He blinked hard, not believing what he saw.

"Edward," Jasper responded in a gruff whisper, his emotions in a turmoil.

"What's going on?" Isaac asked with trembling voice, knowing with a child's intuition that something very, very big was happening. He just didn't know what.

Edward turned to look at the fearful child. Isaac's momentary bravado was long gone now and fear was evident in his eyes. "Isaac," Edward spoke calmly to him, "go get your mother a cold, wet cloth and a glass of water, please."

The little boy's eyes darted from Edward to his mother's unconscious form to the unfamiliar man who was carrying her like she might break, laying her tenderly on the couch.

"Isaac, now please," Edward urged again.

"Yes, sir," he said quietly, dashing into the kitchen to do as he'd been requested. He didn't know what was happening, but his observant eyes had missed nothing. He'd seen the way the man looked at his mother… he hadn't been able to tell what that look meant, but he didn't think he was going to hurt her. And Uncle Edward was here… he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. Isaac knew that.

No, Isaac would have had no way of knowing the conflict that was warring inside Jasper's emotions at that moment. Jasper himself would have been hard pressed to identify them all as he held Alice's unconscious body in his arms.

He'd spent the last eight years dreaming of the moment when he might see his Alice's precious face again. She had been the one thing that had kept him alive during all those long years. The thought of her was the only thing that kept him sane.

She had been the only reason he'd not taken his own gun before he was captured and put a bullet through his temple… he'd known he had to buy her as much time to escape as he possibly could. And fighting back was the only way he knew to do that.

The hope of seeing her again had been the only reason he didn't fall on his knees during the years in hell that followed, begging and pleading with God or his captors to have mercy and end his unbearable torment.

But in all his dreams, their reunion was never like this.

He'd known that eight years was a long time, that a lot could happen. He knew she would have believed him dead, and he'd been prepared that she might have moved on. In all the time he'd spent searching for her, he'd grown accustomed to the weight of dread that remained lodged in his stomach that he might find out that she'd married again… that she'd had a family of her own… one that didn't include him.

The thought made him sick, but it was a possibility he knew he had to be prepared for.

He'd thought he had… as much as he could at least. But he knew now that he'd not been prepared at all. When he'd laid her on the couch, he'd seen the ring on her left hand… the gold wedding band. Just like the matching one Edward wore.

His worst fears had been realized.

He'd survived on dreams of Alice, but never once in those dreams had he considered the fact that she might have been carrying his child when she escaped. He'd never dreamed that he had a son to live for as well. But, deep inside, even without being told, he knew that Isaac was his. The resemblance was much too strong to deny.

"I don't… I don't understand," Edward stammered again as Jasper laid Alice's still form on the couch. "Alice and I heard the gunshots… we though you were dead."

"No," Jasper breathed through tightly clenched teeth, a cold steel entering his gaze, his face hardening at the memories that only he was privy to. "They were not that merciful."

Edward didn't know what to say, though his mind raced a thousand miles an hour. Isaac's reappearance prevented him from saying anything anyway as he rushed back into the room with the wet cloth and the water that Edward had sent him for.

Reluctantly, Jasper moved out of the way as Edward and Isaac knelt over Alice, patting her face with the cool cloth and urging her to wake. He stood out of the way, out of Alice's line of sight when she should wake. If seeing him before startled her enough to make her faint, he thought it best if he gave her a moment to reorient herself before she saw him again.

It was only a minute, but it seemed like so much longer before Alice's eyes flew open urgently. She sat up quickly, ignoring her spinning head as she scanned the room quickly, settling only fleetingly over Edward and her son. Not seeing what she had so desperately hoped to, her face contorted in dark shades of agony, tears welling in her eyes.

She'd spent so many nights dreaming of Jasper… torturing herself with dreams of him returning to her, of feeling herself enfolded in his strong arms again… even though she knew that wasn't possible.

Yet after all this time, she'd finally lost her mind. The man she'd seen standing at her front door couldn't have been Jasper… he'd been dead for almost eight years. But for one breathless second, she'd let herself believe that it was him.

And she was paying dearly for her delusion now.

Deep, guttural cries tore from her chest as she covered her face with her hands and wept bitter tears. She felt Isaac's small hand touch her cheek, heard his breath coming shorter as he responded to seeing his mother so upset.

"It's okay, Mama. It's okay," he tried to soothe her, though his own tiny voice cracked.

That only made her weep harder. It wasn't okay. Her almost-mended heart broke all over again, shattering into a thousand pieces at her feet – and this time she didn't know if she had the strength to pick those pieces back up. She'd never cried like this in front of her son… she'd always held herself together for his sake, but she couldn't now. She just couldn't.

Jasper, on the other hand, watched her helplessly as she fell apart. He wasn't sure whether to leave her be or to try to help, but both Edward and Isaac seemed to be at a loss what to do for her.

"Alice," Edward spoke in his most soothing voice, "it's all right. Everything's all right."

"No, it's not," she choked through her tears. "It finally happened…" she sobbed. "I've lost my mind."

"No, you haven't," Edward smoothed his hand over the disheveled strands of her hair.

"I thought… I thought I saw…"

"Alice," Edward said weightily. "You didn't imagine anything… he's here."

Confusion filled Alice's tear wet eyes as she looked up, but in the midst of it there was a wild irrepressible hope there as well.

That was all the encouragement Jasper needed. He stepped forward slowly, his advance hesitant as he moved back into her line of sight.

She saw the movement out of the corner of her eye and turned towards it. Her eyes met his and, in that second, the world seemed to come to a standstill for him… for both of them.

Her gasp stuck in the back of her throat, her body trembling wildly as he came to kneel in front of her.

"I'm dreaming again," her mouth moved, but no sound came out. Her eyes raked over the face she had once known so well… a face that had changed, aged, over the better part of a decade.

Jasper shook his head slowly, trying to reassure himself as much as her. "You're not."

Her trembling hand reached out to touch his face, feeling the reality, the warmth, of his flesh underneath her fingertips, assuring herself that he wasn't some cruelly vivid delusion after all. She didn't think her heart could take it if he was.

Jasper leaned into her searching hand, his heart twisting and contorting in his chest. He'd longed for this moment for so many years – the moment when he could feel the gentle warmth of her touch, to be so close that he could feel the soft waves of her breath against his face… but on his cheek, he could still feel the cool metal of her gold wedding band, and in his peripheral vision he could see it glinting in the light. It was a brutal reminder that the woman for whom he'd given everything he had to give was no longer his.

She'd moved on just as he'd hoped and feared that she would. There was nothing he could do now but accept it.

Oblivious to the thoughts tormenting Jasper, Alice threw her arms around his neck with a strangled cry. She buried her head into his shoulder as she wept, clinging to him with all her might.

Jasper simply held her, nuzzling his face into the fragrant waves of her hair, savoring the feeling of holding her one last time. All the years he'd dreamed of feeling her in his arms again, all the times he'd longed for it so badly that he could almost convince himself that he could actually feel her, and she was finally here in his arms again… for just this once.

He knew his time was limited with her. He knew that, after this, he'd never have the opportunity to hold her again. That privilege belonged to someone else now.

Jasper was grateful that Edward didn't seem to mind that they have this moment. He had moved back, giving the two of them space as they clung to each other.

It was with great surprise and some confusion that Jasper noticed the arrival of another person into the room then – a young woman that he'd never seen before.

"Edward?" the newcomer asked, peeking around the entryway curiously. "I was getting worried, I wasn't expecting you to take so long…" Her eyebrows were knit together in concern as she took in the drama of the scene in front of her. She flew to Edward's side, pressing herself against his arm. "What's going on?"

Her arrival only confused Jasper more. He'd not granted more than a cursory notice to the young woman until he saw her with Edward… and most importantly, until he noticed the reflection of the wedding band on her finger and the way she curled into his side like she belonged there.

This was Edward's bride? And not Alice?

Jasper felt a momentary wave of relief until he realized that this didn't change the fact that Alice was still married… just not to Edward. That actually made things worse in his mind. At least with Edward he'd known she would be taken care of. He knew that she was with a good man that would provide well for her. Now he realized that she belonged to someone unknown, and that tore him apart inside.

"Bella," Edward spoke to the young woman in a tight, distracted tone, "will you please take Isaac into the kitchen for a moment. I'll be right there."

The young woman he'd called Bella touched his face, searching his eyes with a concerned gaze. Edward smiled tightly, his thoughts and emotions still reeling, as he bent to press a kiss to her forehead.

Vaguely, Jasper realized after that she wrapped her arm protectively around Isaac's shoulders and led him out of the room in spite of his weak protests. It was difficult to concentrate on much else besides Alice's sobbing form in his arms.

"Alice," Edward knelt down in front of her, his eyes flickering between her and Jasper, "Bella and I will take Isaac for a while so the two of you can have time to talk."

"Thank you," Alice choked through her tears, lifting her head to give Edward a watery smile. "I'll be over to get him in a little while."

"Take your time," Edward assured her gently, laying his hand on her shoulder, "he'll be fine with us. And he's welcome to stay the night should you need him to." Alice nodded wordlessly in response, her gratefulness evident in her eyes. "We'll let ourselves out the back."

Alice nodded again, and then Edward was gone. He locked up the front door before he left, and the back door clicked shut a moment later. Alice pulled back, wiping at the tears on her cheeks. Jasper felt her loss immediately, a coldness working its way inside his very bones. He knew he had to get used to that now. Alice belonged to someone else.

An awkwardness fell over the one-time lovers as they were left alone for the first time in the better part of a decade. There was so much to talk about, so many questions that needed answers, but where to start?

Alice cleared her throat nervously, twisting her hands in her lap. "Would you… umm… would you like some coffee, maybe?" she asked, glancing up and barely meeting Jasper's eyes.

"Coffee would be wonderful. Thank you," Jasper said quietly, getting to his feet so that she could have room to stand. He followed her silently into the kitchen, taking note of the home she'd made for herself along the way.

It was small but comfortable – homey and warm. The pictures framed on the walls fascinated him; they promised clues to all of the years he'd missed with her. Most were of her and Isaac, though there were quite a few that included Carlisle and Esme, Edward and his bride.

But, in the short trek to the kitchen, he didn't see any that featured her nameless husband. He was torn between relief and worry… relief because he didn't know if he could bear seeing proof of her with another man, and worry because he thought that surely if she loved him, there would be some obvious evidence of his presence in her life.

Yet there was nothing. Only her ring.

That ring seemed to mock him mercilessly, catching on the light as she moved around the kitchen with the easy grace he remembered so well, putting on a pot of coffee for them. To him, that ring seemed to be almost a third presence in the room, whispering in his ear to remind him exactly what he had lost.

Alice poured them both a mug of coffee when it was ready and sat down across from him at the table. The quiet stretched on as they both toyed with their mugs, unsure of how to break a decade's worth of silence. There were so many things that needed to be discussed – vastly important things – but neither knew just how to begin.

A picture taped to the refrigerator caught Jasper's attention… a picture drawn by Isaac. Alice noticed his quiet, intent gaze on it, so his question came as no surprise to her.

"Alice," he asked in a quiet, tentative voice, "how old is… Isaac?" The name fell uncertainly from his lips.

"He's seven years and four months old," she said meaningfully, knowing exactly why he was asking. "He was born almost exactly eight months after…" her voice trailed off as his eyes, filled to the brim with nameless emotions, met hers again.

"He's mine…" His eyes met hers with an expression she couldn't quite put a name to. It was a question, but it wasn't. Alice knew that.

She just nodded. "Could you doubt that after seeing him even once? He's the very image of you," she kept her voice was soft and reassuring.

"I didn't doubt, I just… I can't… " He laid his head in his hand, covering his eyes, but not before Alice saw the thick sheen of tears building there.

"He's such a good boy," she told him, battling her own tears as she tried to sum up their son – the son he'd never had a chance to know – in only a few words, "so full of life. He loves to read, and he's constantly trying to learn new things. He does very well in school, and his teachers always tell me he's a joy to have in the classroom. He enjoys just about any sport you can imagine, but baseball is his favorite. He loves people, and he rarely meets a stranger."

Jasper lifted his head, speaking in a husky voice. "You've done a good job with him, Alice. That much is obvious."

"I've tried."

A pained smile tipped Jasper's lips. "He's very protective of you."

Alice chuckled, but it quickly turned into a strangled sob. "Like his father."

Jasper glanced back down to his mug, his eyes zoning out as his heart wrenched at hearing her call him that.

He was a father. He had a son… a son that didn't know him.

"Jasper, what happened?" Alice's voice was barely audible. "We thought you were dead."

"I know," he sighed deeply, meeting her eyes again. "I'm sorry."

"We heard the gunshots… we assumed you'd been hit."

A tired, resigned smile tilted his lips, though not a trace of life touched his eyes. "I was. Twice."

"But…"

"But not fatally… obviously. They had orders to bring me in alive for… _questioning_."

Alice gasped, knowing exactly what kind of "questioning" he meant. "Oh, Jasper." One hand flew to her mouth, the other reaching across the table to cover his in a silent show of support. "What did they do to you?"

He shook his head adamantly, turning his hand so that her fingers fell through his. "I can't tell you that. Ask me whatever you'd like about anything else, and I'll gladly tell you. But there are some things that civilized ears should never have to hear."

There were some things he'd carry to the grave with him, and his time in captivity was something he'd vowed to himself that he'd never speak of again. He'd never speak to anyone about the horrors he'd endured, the unspeakable things that he'd lived through.

He'd been deeply entrenched in the resistance, and his captors had known that. They'd wanted his knowledge, and they'd been determined to get it through any means necessary. In the months that he'd spent as their prisoner, he'd witnessed firsthand the terrible depths that human beings could sink to as he'd been questioned… as he'd been _tortured_… repeatedly until he'd thought for sure he was going to break. Yet somehow he hadn't. He'd given them nothing.

His one mercy was that Alice had not been taken as well. He knew that by himself he could withstand almost anything, but he knew, had they threatened her, he would have told them anything they'd wanted to know… and more.

He'd been left in a dark cell to rot, taken out at intervals for still more questioning. Physically, mentally, emotionally, he'd been battered and abused, and his body, inside and out, bore testament to that with its scars.

He'd been half mad from the oppressive solitude and the darkness when he'd finally been rescued, his body all but broken, horribly ill from being left to wallow in his own filth for so long. Somehow, his rescuers had managed to identify him, shipping him back to a hospital in London for treatment. He didn't remember much of that time, having been just barely alive. But his determination to live had been strong. He'd eventually walked out on his own two feet, determined to find Alice no matter how long it took.

The gentle pressure of her fingers squeezing his brought his mind back from the horrors of the past and he tightened his grasp on her, grateful for the warmth of her hand in his at last.

"How did you get out?" she asked. She saw the darkness that had covered his features and was a little frightened by it. She could only imagine what kinds of terrible secrets he felt he had to keep to himself. Her heart hurt for him all over again. It was almost easier to think of him as being dead rather than enduring that kind of torture. At least dead he'd have been at peace.

But, had he died, he wouldn't be here, sitting right across her tiny table. She could still barely wrap her mind around the fact that he was. She was still almost afraid she'd wake up and find it all a dream.

"When Germany surrendered, those of us left alive were released by the Allies. They lifted me to London, and I spent the next few months in a hospital there. When I got out, my first thought was to find you, but I didn't know where to even start looking. I didn't have any idea where you might have gone. But I was determined I'd make sure you were safe and well if it was the last thing I ever did."

"You've been looking for me all this time?" Alice asked weakly, unable to process anything but that. "And I had no idea… all those years. If I'd only known… I…"

"I know," he said tiredly, brokenly. The thought of all their wasted years, when they could have been together had they only known, was difficult to swallow. So much heartache, so much pain, that could have been avoided.

And there was still more heartache to come.

He'd created a terrible dilemma for them both by barging back into her life. She'd moved on. She'd married again believing he was dead… that she was legally and morally free to do so. If he'd truly done what was best for her, he would never have placed her in the position she would be in now – a woman married to two men at the same time… an unknowing adulteress.

He would have no choice but to walk away… he couldn't let her turn her life upside down again for him. She was finally settled, and she had appeared happy before she'd realized it was him at the door.

What he'd done had been indefensible and horribly self-centered.

"Alice, I'm so sorry." Jasper's quiet voice, thick with remorse, interrupted the long silence that stretched between them.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" she asked, unable to comprehend anything except the fact that all these years, he'd been out there searching for her… she didn't know what she might have been able to do differently to have made it easier for him to find her, but the thought of all that wasted time tortured her.

He slid his hand out from under hers, tucking it in his lap as he averted his eyes in shame. "Alice, coming here was probably the most selfish thing I've ever done. I'd always known that you believed me dead… I'd known that you would have moved on with your life. But I _had_ to see you at least once. I had to know that you were well… that you were happy. I thought I could be content to just see you at a distance, but once I found you, I knew that could never be enough.

"It was inexcusable of me to disrupt your life like this. But I hope you'll be able to forgive me."

"Jasper, what are you talking about? I don't understand."

The perplexity on her face made his heart twist unbearably. "I should go," he began in shaking voice.

"What?" A note of panic worked its way into that single word, her throat closing with fear.

"I doubt that your… husband," he nearly choked on the word, "would appreciate my being here."

"My _what_?" she asked incredulously. "Jasper, what in the world are you talking about? What husband?"

The genuine confusion on her face made him question his assumption, but still he gestured to her left hand, his brow furrowing.

With that, all the pieces fell into place for Alice. "No, Jasper, no," she shook her head fervently, needing to set his mind at ease. "There's no one else."

"Then why?" his voice trailed off, glancing from the offending piece of jewelry back up to her face.

"Because I _am_ married… to you." She traced her hand over the thin band. "This is the same ring you gave me in Vienna ten years ago.

"You still wear it?" he asked, barely able to believe that she could be telling him the truth. "Even though…"

"Yes," she told him. "I've never taken it off. It's either been on my hand or on its chain since you gave it to me. It was one of the few things I had of you." She ducked her head. "And there are other reasons as well."

Jasper's forehead creased in confusion, and she explained. "It may be the 1950s, but people still look askance at single or unwed mothers. I never wanted any hint of that to touch Isaac. Keeping that ring in sight is a small thing, but it has seemed to help keep tongues from wagging." She smiled a bit self-consciously. "And it helps to ward off unwelcome male advances as well."

"So, you're not… there's not…" he stammered, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that maybe, just maybe, she still loved him after all this time – just as he loved her.

"I told you," she said, standing up and moving his side of the table, taking his face tenderly between both her hands. "There isn't anyone else. I've never been able to want anyone else."

He leaned in to her touch, his eyes sliding shut as a vast relief swept over him in crashing waves. Scalding tears slid from his eyes, slipping through her fingers – and he couldn't bring himself to care that he was weeping in front of her. Alice drew his head down to rest against her chest, laying her cheek against the top of his head as his tears soaked the thin fabric of her blouse.

"I tried to move on," she confessed to him in a hoarse whisper, moved to tears herself at the sight of his obvious relief. "I truly did, but it never felt right. And then there was Isaac to consider. I didn't want just anyone playing that role in his life. I didn't want to settle for anything less than what was best for both of us. I can't tell you now how glad I am that I didn't," she whispered into his hair.

"So what now?" she asked when he pulled back, wiping the traces of his tears with the handkerchief he took from his pocket.

"I don't know," Jasper admitted, "I hadn't thought that far ahead. I didn't dare."

"And now?"

"I think… that's largely up to you, Alice. It depends on what you want. I'm the one intruding on the life you've made for yourself."

"Stop," Alice said, placing one finger over his lips. Just that simple touch alone sent a spark of energy she hadn't felt in years singing up her arm. She noticed that his breath quickened as well. "I don't ever want to hear you say that again." Reluctantly, she drew her finger away from his mouth. "I never stopped loving you, Jasper. Never," she admitted, looking deeply into his eyes so that he could see that she meant it.

She knew that he must have still had feelings for her, otherwise he wouldn't have spent so much time and effort looking for her – he wouldn't have appeared so devastated when he believed her to be married to someone else. But it still made her feel vulnerable to admit that to him.

"You've given me something I dreamed about, but never believed possible… a second chance with you. I think we'd be fools no to take advantage of that. And you deserve a chance to know your son… he deserves the chance to know you," Alice said after taking a deep, fortifying breath.

Some of the tension drained from Jasper's face as relief took its place. "I'd like that. I truly would."

"So you'll stay?"

He nodded, smiling weakly as he cupped her face in his palm. "I'll stay." She brushed her lips over the pad of flesh at the base of his thumb, telling him wordlessly that he'd made the right decision. "But what are we going to tell Isaac?" he asked, wondering how his son would receive him.

"The truth," Alice said simply. "It may take him some time to adjust, but he will. We'll just have to be patient." He nodded, willing to do whatever it took. "But I should probably go get him now. He'll be worried."

"Of course."

"Are you coming with me?" she asked, stepping away.

"Would you like for me to?" She nodded, not needing time to think about that question. "Then of course I will."

Together they walked down the street to Edward's house. When they walked in, Bella was sitting with Isaac on the couch, her hand stroking gently over his curls, reading quietly to him in an attempt to keep him distracted.

The look on her son's face very nearly tore Alice's heart in two. He was confused and troubled, his little face puckered forlornly. When he saw her standing there, he leapt off the couch and into her arms, burrowing into her. She laid her cheek on his baby-fine curls, holding him as close as she could.

Alice glanced up at Jasper through the sheen of fresh tears that filled her eyes. He was watching them intently, as if afraid they were both a mirage. His expression as he gazed at his son was indescribable. She would have loved to know the thoughts behind his brooding eyes.

With a teary smile to Jasper, she kept her arm wrapped around Isaac and steered him into one of the bedrooms. Somehow she had to find the words to explain to her son what had happened today. And she knew this was something she needed to do alone.

Alice was certain it would be some time, for all of them, before they could comprehend everything this meant for their little family.

When they emerged some time later, Jasper was sitting in quiet conversation with Edward and Bella as well as Carlisle and Esme – Edward must have called them. Everyone looked up as they entered, Isaac clinging tightly to his mother's waist, wiping evidence of tears from his cheeks.

Esme turned back to Jasper and asked gently, "What do you plan to do now? You're staying in Chicago, aren't you?"

Isaac tightened his grip on his mother as he waited almost breathlessly for his response.

"I'd like to," Jasper said quietly, still not quite certain of his welcome here. After all, he'd disrupted their lives by showing up so abruptly. The future seemed very uncertain to him at the moment. He knew what he wanted, but he also knew he had to give everyone – most especially his wife and son – time to adjust to his sudden reappearance. "I'd planned to get a hotel room nearby for the time being."

Esme's face was aghast. She looked like he'd suggested an armed robbery. "You'll do no such thing!" she protested, shocking Jasper with her vehemence. "We have an extra room in our home. You'll stay there with us for as long as you like… until you can work out something more permanent."

"I couldn't impose on you like that," Jasper said quietly, a little overwhelmed by her generous offer.

"Nonsense," she said firmly, somehow managing to be sincerely kind at the same time. "I wouldn't have offered if it was an imposition. We'll be happy to have you."

"You might as well agree to it," Edward spoke up, wrapping his arm lovingly around his mother's shoulders and squeezing affectionately. "She's incredibly stubborn when she wants something."

Esme just nodded, not bothering to object to her son's statement. He was right.

"Thank you," Jasper said softly, earnestly. "You're very kind."

"I should get Isaac home," Alice said regretfully. "It's been a long day. I'll see you tomorrow?" She'd intended it as a statement, but it came out as an inquiry. This still seemed more a product of her vivid imagination and intense longing than reality.

"Of course," Jasper's voice was reassuring. "I'll be here."

It was incredibly difficult to leave him, but she knew Isaac was upset and overwhelmed. This had all been very unsettling for him, and they needed to take things slow for his sake. His whole world had been thrown into upheaval.

Alice didn't sleep at all that night. She'd tucked Isaac into bed when they'd returned home, sitting on the edge of his small mattress, answering his questions until he just couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. Then she'd stroked his hair and sang softly to him until he drifted off to sleep. Even then she didn't leave him right away. There was something strangely soothing about feeling the warmth of him as he slept, the rhythmic breathing, the steady rise and fall of his back. He was her miracle.

Finally, late into the night, she'd kissed him softly on his cheek and wandered back into her room. Silently, she undressed, pulling her nightgown over her head, and slipped into her bed. Her mind was racing, making sleep an impossibility.

Having Jasper return to her life was something out of her dreams, but she realized that life wasn't as simple as dreams. She and Jasper were two very different people now than they had been years before when they'd married.

Life hadn't been particularly kind to either of them… least of all to him. Alice didn't know reasonably what to expect from here. She didn't know what Jasper might want in the months and years to follow… if he might want to try to make their marriage work again.

They'd had an intense love, forged in the midst of tragedy and war, but neither had known normalcy together. Even then, they'd never lived together during the short span of their marriage. How compatible would they be now when things were so very different?

And they weren't the only ones to be considered now. It wasn't just the two of them anymore. Now there was Isaac. Alice knew she had to be very cautious about all of this for his sake. Much as she might have wanted Jasper here, in her home, in her bed, her arms, she knew it wasn't wise to rush anything. Not now. Isaac had to be her first concern. He depended on her for that.

In the days that followed, it was almost like getting to know a stranger as she and Jasper spent more time together. It was awkward and hard at first. It took time for them to adjust to who they were now and not who they had been a decade ago… in a much different time and place.

Nothing was the same now, not their circumstances, their surroundings… not even themselves. But their love was strong – strong enough to withstand all the testing of time, and they slowly found that love being rekindled.

It was equally heartwarming and heartbreaking for Alice to watch Jasper with Isaac. Heartwarming to see the genuine way he tried to get to know him as an individual, as his own unique person. And heartbreaking because he shouldn't have had to "get to know" him, he should have been in his life all along, right from the moment she'd known of his existence.

Isaac wasn't sure what to think of him at first. He'd always regarded his father with something akin to hero-worship, so it was very difficult at first for him to comprehend that someone whom he'd idolized was, in fact, flesh and blood… and very much human.

It took time, but he eventually flourished under his father's attention, deciding that it was much better to have a _real_ father who wasn't always perfect rather than the idolized father of his fantasies.

Alice loved watching them together. She loved seeing Isaac's face light up when his father came specifically to spend time with him… when he took him to the park and played baseball with him, when he came over after school and asked about his day and what he'd learned, when he took them all to movies… as they slowly merged into a real family. She loved seeing Isaac's face beam with pride when Jasper praised him for doing so well in school, for taking such good care of his mother, for growing up into a fine young man.

Alice fell in love with Jasper all over again as he took the time to woo her as he'd been unable to do during their whirlwind, wartime romance so many years before. Like their son, she thrived under his attention. Even though they'd not finalized anything, there was still a stability she felt now that had been absent for a very, very long time. She felt lighter than she had in years, finding herself smiling, humming to herself, for no reason other than that she was happy.

She noticed the changes in Jasper as well. The tortured look gradually dimmed from his eyes, replaced by the vibrant warmth and life she remembered from before. His face filled back out as she and Esme made sure he ate well. He would never admit it, but Alice had a sneaky suspicion that he'd done the bare minimum to take care of himself before. He'd been so thin at first. Alice was glad to see him looking more like the man she remembered.

It was still painfully obvious that he wasn't that same man, though. She'd never known him to be carefree – the war had left its strain on him even when she'd first known him. But, though he tried to downplay it, Alice was seeing glimpses of just how much damage his time in captivity had brought about.

Certain noises would make him jump, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out over his skin as his eyes darted wildly over his surroundings. It usually only took seconds for him to recover himself, but, even though he tried to hide it, Alice still saw.

He tried to hide his physical scars from her and Isaac as well, trying to protect them both from what they meant, but she saw those as well – the most obvious were the thick bands of scar tissue over his wrists that looked like they came from shackles. There were various marks on his hands and arms, and Alice was certain that his clothes hid more that would probably break her heart – evidence of all the ways he'd been hurt. But she'd not seen those yet.

They hadn't rushed the physical side of their relationship. Even though they were still technically married, they'd not ventured past chaste kisses and embraces when they parted for the night. Part of that, at first, was to give Isaac time to adjust to all the changes that had taken place. Alice hadn't known how he would react to seeing her being affectionate with a man, if it would disturb him.

Now she wondered if Jasper was holding back in a misguided sense of protecting her from his scars and what they represented. She tried not to think that it was because he didn't desire her anymore.

Alice knew her body had changed since the last time they'd been together. She'd carried a child and given birth since then. She'd taken care of herself throughout the years, but she didn't have the same girlish figure she'd had before. Her body had matured into that of a woman, fuller now than before.

Fleetingly she'd wondered if that's where his hesitation had come from, if he no longer wanted her that way. But at times she still caught him looking at her with that same heated longing she remembered from so many years before – that look that caused her cheeks to flush and warmth to pool in her belly.

If that look was any indication, he did still want her. Perhaps as much as she wanted him.

Summer gradually gave way to fall. Jasper started a job, proving in one more small way that he intended to put down roots and stay here – that his presence was permanent. He still boarded at Carlisle and Esme's house, though he spent his evenings after work and every weekend with Alice and Isaac.

On one particular Saturday morning, Alice sat on the couch, folding Isaac's socks as her son sat curled on the couch, drawing on a piece of paper. She tried to hide her smile as he sat there completely oblivious to the surprise Jasper was bringing him today.

There was one thing that Isaac had been asking for repeatedly of late, and Alice had finally allowed Jasper to talk her into letting him get it for him. Jasper was convinced it would be good for him, though Alice thought he wanted to do it more for the smile it would no doubt bring to Isaac's face. If they weren't careful, Jasper would have him spoiled rotten before long. She couldn't fault him for that, though. He had a lot of time to make up for.

When she heard a knock on the door, she paused, biting her lip to hide her smile. "Isaac, will you get the door for me?" she asked, keeping her face even.

"Sure." He hopped up and ran to the door. Alice saw his face light up when he opened it to find Jasper standing there. No matter how many times she saw that bright excitement fill his eyes when he saw his father, it never got old to her.

Isaac had been beside himself lately having a father and a mother both just like all his friends. And she'd been so happy to see him come to regard Jasper with that hero worship he'd reserved for the father he'd only heard stories of. He'd all but idolized that story version of his father, but Alice almost thought he might idolize Jasper even more.

"Hi," Isaac greeted his father happily. "What's that?" he asked, immediately curious at seeing the box Jasper held in his arms.

"It's a surprise," Jasper told him with expectation lighting his eyes. Alice thought he looked almost as excited as Isaac would be when he found out what the box actually held.

"A surprise for me?" Isaac asked hopefully.

Alice laughed before Jasper could answer. "Isaac," she scolded playfully, "are you going to let him inside, or are you going to make him stand there on the front porch all day?"

"Oh, sorry," Isaac ducked his head bashfully and opened the door wider, letting Jasper inside. "But is it for me? Can I see it?" he asked once again as soon as he shut the door.

"Yes, it's for you," Jasper told him, setting the box on the floor in the middle of the living room. He nodded towards it, giving Isaac permission to open it.

Just as Isaac took a step forward, the box moved, a whine sounding from the inside. Isaac jumped back in surprise, but he recovered quickly, excitement dawning brightly in his eyes.

"Is that what I think it is?" he asked breathlessly.

"Why don't you open it and find out," Jasper urged him, his eyes darting to Alice eagerly.

Isaac wasted no time. He dove to the box and tore the lid off excitedly. Something small and furry jumped out at him and he squealed in delight. "It's a puppy! Is he for me? Can I keep him?" he asked, looking back and forth between his mother and father as he gathered the squirming bundle of fur in his arms, letting it lick all over his face.

"Yes, he's yours," Alice told him, glancing up to smile at Jasper who looked very pleased at Isaac's enthusiastic response, "and, yes, you may keep him."

Isaac jumped up off the floor and ran to his mother, squeezing his arms around her neck and giving her a loud smacking kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Alice smiled, kissing the top of his wild curls. "You're welcome. But it was your father's idea. He knew how much you wanted one."

Neither was prepared for Isaac's response. Just as he'd done with Alice, he threw himself in his Jasper's arms and squeezed tightly. "Thanks, Dad."

Jasper looked absolutely stunned at first. He and Isaac had been steadily building their relationship, and they'd made a lot of progress, but this was the first time Isaac had embraced him… as well as the first time he'd actually addressed him as his father.

They'd talked about that with him and told him that they'd be happy to hear Isaac call him "dad" or "father" when he was comfortable. But that was up to him. They never pressed him to do so. They both wanted it to be his idea… not because he felt like he had to. It would only hurt their growing relationship if he felt forced into anything.

This was a milestone for them, and it was obvious that it touched Jasper deeply.

Alice thought she saw a sheen of moisture in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Isaac, returning his hug. His voice was gruff when he responded. "You're welcome, buddy." He tousled Isaac's hair when he let go. "I'm glad you like him."

"What's his name?" Isaac asked, crouching back down on the floor to play with the puppy that had turned his attention to the corner of the rug, gnawing on it, while they'd been distracted.

"He doesn't have a name yet," Jasper told him. "You get to pick one for him. Got any ideas?"

Isaac's face scrunched up in concentration as he hummed under his breath.

"Why don't you think about it for a while," Alice suggested. "You'll come up with one. And in the meantime, you can take him into the backyard before he destroys my rug."

"Okay," he agreed readily, scooping the puppy into his arms and carrying him outside.

Alice got up when he was gone and wrapped her arms around Jasper's waist. He returned her embrace immediately, laying his cheek on her hair.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"I'm more than okay," he told her, tightening his arms around her. "I hadn't realized just how much I wanted to hear that until now."

"It's a pretty amazing feeling, I know. I'll never forget the first time he called me 'Mama.' I know it's not exactly the same, but…"

"I wish I'd been there," he whispered into her hair, his voice thickening again. "I've missed so much."

"There was nothing you could have done about that. And you're here now. That's what matters."

"I know," his voice was wistful.

"But still." Alice knew it wasn't the same. But they couldn't change what had been, they could only make the most of what they had now.

When Isaac came inside for lunch, he had a thoughtful look on his face. He turned to Jasper when they were all sitting at the table eating. "I was thinking," he told him, picking at his sandwich, "I think Buster needs a house of his own so he doesn't tear up all of Mom's stuff. She's not gonna like him very much if he makes messes in her house, and he needs one so he doesn't get cold at night or get wet when it's raining."

"Buster, huh?" Jasper asked. "You decided on a name?"

"Uh-huh," Isaac nodded, his mouth full of sandwich. "I think he looks like a Buster."

"I like it. You're right, it suits him." Isaac beamed under Jasper's praise. "And I think that's a good idea you had. Do you want me to help you make Buster a house all his own?"

"Would you?" he asked hopefully, his eyes wide.

"I'd love to. I'll go get what we need right after we eat."

"Do you want to stay here and play with Buster, or do you want to go with me?" Jasper asked him after they'd finished cleaning up their lunch dishes.

Isaac looked back and forth between him and the backyard where Buster waited for him. "I want to go with you," he decided after deliberating for a moment.

Jasper tried to hide just how pleased he was that Isaac chose to go with him, but Alice could still see it, and she understood. He had a lot of lost time and missed opportunities to make up for, and he treasured every single one.

That afternoon, she watched them from the kitchen window as she prepared dinner – father and son working side by side to build the dog house for Buster. Even after all these weeks, she still felt as if this was all too good to be true. She still almost expected to wake up and find it all a beautiful, impossible dream.

Her heart was full to overflowing as she watched her two men labor away. She was so happy it almost hurt.

They were both so similar, and she was finding even more small similarities between them. Isaac had begun unconsciously imitating some of his father's mannerisms – the way one corner of his mouth tipped down when he was concentrating hard, the way he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck when he was deep in thought, the way he pushed an unruly strand of hair from his forehead. Alice noticed that he'd even begun mimicking his father's gait, holding himself taller and prouder than before.

Jasper's hair had grown out just enough now that she could finally tell with a sense of satisfaction that Isaac did indeed get his curls from him. They looked so much alike out there with the sun making their golden hair shine, the breeze ruffling it as they worked side by side.

Jasper showed Isaac how to measure the wood, to mark where it needed to be cut. She had the urge to protest when he let Isaac help him saw the wood, standing behind him and guiding his hands, but she resisted. She knew Jasper wouldn't let any harm come to him.

They'd walked a fine line as they'd tried to adjust to Jasper having a parenting role. Alice had raised their son by herself since his birth. Though she'd had support from the Cullens, she'd been the one ultimately responsible for his upbringing. That wasn't the case now, and no matter how happy she was that Jasper was back, sharing the parenting with him was still an adjustment.

Jasper had held back at first, watching and learning from her, careful not to overstep, yet still wanting to be involved. Alice respected that and knew it was only right for him to be.

Already she could see a difference in the way they parented. She knew she was prone to coddle Isaac; she still tended to see him as her baby. Jasper was more apt to let him have a little independence, to learn from experience… just like building the dog house today.

Alice wanted to warn him to be careful, to not smash his thumb with the hammer… or better yet to send him off to play with something less dangerous while she fixed it for him. Jasper had shown him how to do it, made sure he was ready and comfortable with it, and then stood there beside him supervising.

Alice wanted to protect and mother, and Jasper wanted to teach him, to see that he could be independent, that he was able to stand on his own two feet. She supposed this was only the first of many such instances they'd face while Isaac was growing up. But she knew that wasn't a bad thing.

Isaac wasn't a baby anymore, and Alice knew that balance would be best for him. She only had to watch him beam under his father's praise as they worked together to see evidence of that already.

She almost hated to call them in when dinner was ready, but she knew they'd be hungry after working so hard all afternoon. They both came tromping in, with Buster right on their heels, when she called them. Alice smiled seeing Jasper's arm slung so comfortably over Isaac's shoulder as they walked in.

Both of them sniffed as they walked in the door. "Something smells good," Isaac said, eyeing the pot bubbling on the stove.

"Yes, it does. Go on and wash up," Jasper told him.

"And don't forget the soap," Alice called as he went thundering up the stairs to his bathroom.

"Yes, ma'am," she heard him grumble on his way up.

"You make the boy use soap?" Jasper teased. "What kind of mother are you?"

"That goes for you, too," she waved her wooden spoon at him. "No dirty hands in my kitchen."

"Yes, ma'am," Jasper mimicked their son, mischief in his eyes.

Jasper was back before Isaac, walking in still drying his hands on a towel. "That really does smell good," he said, standing over her and pressing a kiss to her temple. "What is it?"

"It's stew," she told him, leaning back into his embrace. "There's fresh bread, too. Here," she dipped a small bite out and held it to his lips.

He blew on it until it was cool enough not to burn his mouth. He moaned when he tasted it. "I _think_ it's good," he said with mock solemnity, "but I might need another taste to be sure."

Alice laughed, placing the spoon on the counter and turning around to loop her arms around his neck. "Just being thorough, right?" she teased him.

"Of course. I always try to be very thorough," he said, his voice growing husky at the feel of her body pressing against his.

"Mmhmm," she murmured, standing on the tip of her toes to find his mouth with hers. It started off a slow melding together of lips, but quickly grew in intensity as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer. Heat flared between them as her hands tangled in his hair, her world shrinking to sensation as their mouths moved hungrily together, forgetting everything except for how it felt to have him holding her this tightly again. It had been so long since he'd kissed her this way… so long since she'd felt this way with anyone.

"Ew, gross!" A little voice spoke up from the entrance to the kitchen.

Alice jumped back with a strangled squeak like she was the child and Isaac the parent who'd caught her doing something she shouldn't. She studied his face carefully for any sign that he was disturbed by what he'd seen, but just the opposite appeared to be true. Despite his protests that it was gross, he almost looked like he was gloating… like he was happy to see them being affectionate with each other.

Jasper just laughed, his arms preventing her from moving too far away. "I'm afraid you're going to have to get used to it, buddy. I like kissing your mama."

"Because you love her," Isaac pointed out wisely. Neither one missed the note of satisfaction in his voice.

"Yes, I do," Jasper told him, holding out one arm to him. "I love you both."

Isaac scooted into the middle of their embrace, wrapping one arm around each of them. "I guess it's okay then," he conceded.

After dinner, Jasper helped Alice with the kitchen cleanup while Isaac went into the living room to play with Buster. They weren't working in any particular hurry to get done, they were just enjoying the chance to be together.

"What?" Jasper asked when Alice stopped talking midsentence, her head cocked to the side like she was listening to something.

"It got awfully quiet in there all of a sudden," she said, glancing towards the living room where Isaac was.

"Okay," Jasper drawled out the word, not understanding where the problem was.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Jasper, the only times little boys get that quiet are when they're getting into mischief or plotting how to."

Jasper snorted. "Fine, I'll go check on him."

He was gone for just a minute before Alice heard him calling her very quietly from the other room. "Come look at this," he said when she peeked her head around the corner.

There, on the rug by the fireplace, Isaac lay with Buster curled up in his arms, his furry chin resting on Isaac's hand… both were sound asleep.

"Bless his heart," Alice sighed, taking in the sight of her little boy with his features so peaceful in sleep. She'd always thought he looked like a little angel when he was sleeping… even more than usual. "I hate to disturb him."

Jasper laid his hand on her arm when she moved towards him. "Let me get him," he said.

Isaac barely stirred when Jasper shifted him so that he could pick him up. He didn't seem bothered at all by his change in position, curling into Jasper instead, tucking his head in the crook of his neck. Alice grabbed the sleeping Buster while Jasper carried Isaac up the stairs and into his room. She got his pajamas together while Jasper set him on the side of the bed, slipping off his shoes and socks.

Isaac woke up just enough to help Jasper get his shirt and blue jeans off and clean pajamas on. After Jasper helped him get settled under the blankets, tucking him in, Alice leaned in, kissing his cheek, flushed and warm from sleep.

"G'night, Mom," Isaac mumbled sleepily. "G'night, Dad."

"Good night," Alice told him, smoothing his hair one last time. "Sleep well."

"We'll see you in the morning," Jasper said, bending down to kiss his forehead.

Just that quickly, Isaac was asleep again. Alice slipped her hand into Jasper's, and they both just stood there for a long moment, watching their little boy sleep. Finally, they tiptoed out of the room, their fingers still laced together.

Outside in the hall, Jasper pulled Alice gently into his arms, simply holding her. They stood like that for a long time, her head resting on his chest, the beating of his heart deep and strong against her cheek.

"I should go," Jasper said finally. "It's getting late."

"All right," Alice noticed she sounded as reluctant as he did. Not letting go of his hand, she walked him down the stairs to the front door. Once there, he cupped her face gently between his palms and kissed her softly, once, twice, and then a third time.

"Good night," he breathed against her lips.

"Night."

It felt so wrong watching him leave now. The whole house felt empty without him… almost as empty as her arms. She didn't want to kiss him goodnight at the door anymore. She wanted to crawl into bed with him, sleep in his arms, and wake up next to him in the morning. She wanted him here all the time, a permanent part of, not only their lives, but their home as well.

They'd taken things slow, waiting for the right time before they took that step, but she was tired of that at this point. She was _so_ tired of waiting.

In the end, it was Isaac who let them know, with the simplicity of a child's wisdom, when that right time was.

The next morning, Alice was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking her coffee when Isaac came tearing down the stairs, his hair rumpled from sleep. Buster jumped up from where he'd been dozing by the screen door, excited to see his boy. Isaac only afforded him part of his focus, scratching his ears absently while his eyes searched for something.

Confusion and disappointment filled his eyes when he looked back to his mother, seeing that she was here by herself.

"What is it?" Alice asked, concerned by the dejected set of his shoulders.

"Where's…" he began, his small voice quiet and sad. "Where is he?"

Comprehension filled Alice's eyes. "He's at his house," she said gently, smoothing his tousled curls as he came to sit beside her at the table. "He'll be here in a little while, I'm sure." Isaac said nothing. "Are you hungry?" Alice asked, trying to distract him. "Do you want some breakfast?"

Isaac shook his head. "I don't want anything."

"Why don't you just try," she suggested, getting up to fix him a bowl of cereal.

Obligingly, he ate a few bites, but mostly just pushed it around in the bowl. "Mom?" he asked after several long moments. "Can I ask you something?"

"_May_ I ask," Alice corrected gently. "And, yes, of course."

"He _is_ my dad, right?"

Alice was surprised at the question but quickly hid it. "Yes, he is."

"And that makes him your husband, doesn't it?"

"Yes, he's my husband," Alice said, not bothering to correct his assumption or his logic. That was a discussion for another time.

"So that means we're a family, right?"

"Yes, Isaac," Alice said, stroking his cheek gently, "we're a family."

His eyes searched hers, his little forehead wrinkled. "If he's my dad and we're a real family, then _why_ does he still live with Papa and Nana and not with us?"

"That's a very good question, sweetheart," she said, scooting her chair towards him. She laid her arm around his shoulders, drawing him close. "Do you want him to live with us?" Isaac nodded fervently. Alice took a deep breath, feeling a fluttering of anticipation fill her. "Then why don't you run upstairs and get dressed, and let's go tell him that."

Immediately, Isaac jumped up from his chair, his soggy cereal forgotten, as he ran to his room to get his clothes.

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting in Esme's kitchen. Alice and Jasper had steaming cups of fresh coffee in front of them and Esme had made hot cocoa especially for Isaac. Sensing that they were there for a purpose, she left the little family alone, pressing a fleeting kiss to Alice's cheek and Isaac's forehead as she left the room.

Alice knew that Isaac was nervous, though he presented a brave front. He'd clasped her hand tightly on the way over here and fidgeted in his chair when they were finally alone. Without saying a word, Alice placed her arm lovingly around her son, silently encouraging him to say what he wanted.

Isaac took a deep breath, looking to his mother for reassurance before he turned to Jasper. His little heart was pounding quickly in his chest. He was nervous. What if his dad said no? What if he really didn't want them forever? What if that was why he was living with Papa and Nana instead of with him?

But whether he knew it or not, he was his father's son, and he was _not_ going to give in to his fears… no matter how loudly they screamed inside his head.

Jasper watched his young son fight his silent battle, saw him steel himself inside and wondered what this could be about. He looked to Alice, but her face gave nothing away.

"What is it, Isaac?" he asked, making certain he kept his voice even and encouraging. He didn't know what Isaac could be afraid of, but he had the sudden protective urge to place his boy in his lap and hold him close, shielding him from whatever might be troubling him.

"Mom and I were talking this morning," Isaac began, his voice cracking with his nervousness.

"About what?" Jasper prompted, glancing at Alice again.

Isaac looked him in the eye. And behind his bravado, Jasper could see the doubt, the insecurity warring there. "We're a family, right?" he asked, beginning the same line of questioning he'd used on his mother earlier.

"Yes, we are," Jasper told him assuredly.

"And you love us, right?"

Jasper's heart bled that he even had to question that. "I do," he assured him, "more than my own life."

Tears sprung to Alice's eyes as she recognized the very words he'd spoken to her as he'd sent her to safety, sacrificing himself and his freedom for her and the son they'd not realized she was carrying.

Isaac nodded, feeling somewhat relieved already. "Then Mom and I think you need to move into our house and live with us so we can be a _real_ family now," he said quickly before his courage failed.

Alice was watching Jasper's face carefully so she didn't miss the wave of shock that passed over his features. His eyes shot to hers, hope brimming there.

"Yes," she said, her voice husky with emotion as she confirmed what their son had said. "We do."

"So," Isaac said, watching them both carefully, his voice wavering again, "will you?"

Jasper placed his hand on his son's shoulder, squeezing gently. "I'd like that," he told him. The relief and his joy that flooded Isaac's face made his heart clench and his throat tighten. "I'd like that a lot," he whispered, unable to find his voice.

For the second time, he fought back his surprise as his son launched himself into his arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around his small body, amazed at how he perfectly he fit there, and held him like he never intended to let go.

Alice just watched them for a moment, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Jasper found her eyes over Isaac's head, wiping at the tell-tale moisture in his own eyes. Unable to wait any longer, she stood and went to the other side of the table, joining in on their embrace. A love so strong she thought her heart might actually burst from it filled her.

She'd learned to be content over the years, even happy in a way, but this was a happiness such as she'd never dreamed she'd feel again. The tears that seeped from her eyes were the overflow of a heart that was too full to be contained.

"Isaac," Jasper said, loosening his hold after several moments to look his son in his eyes, "will you go and find your nana for a few minutes? Your mom and I need to talk."

"Just for a few minutes, though, right?" he asked. "And then we'll go home?"

"And then we'll go home," Jasper repeated, smiling as he ruffled his hair.

When Isaac scampered out of the room, Jasper stood, bringing Alice with him. "You're sure of this? This is what you want?" he asked, holding her face between his hands, scarcely able to believe it.

"More than anything," she assured him, laying her hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating steadily against her palm.

"You're absolutely sure?" he asked again, afraid his mind was playing tricks on him.

"I'm absolutely sure," she promised. "After all this time, there's one thing I know without a doubt… you and I are meant to be together. The fact that we're even standing here now proves that."

He nodded, laying his forehead against hers. "Yes, we are." His whispered words went into her mouth as he pressed his lips tenderly to hers, sealing their declarations with a kiss.

She melted into his arms as he wrapped her up in a close embrace. They'd shared quite a few kisses since their reunion, but this one was different. It was backed by a promise, the assurance of a shared future.

"There's just one thing I want to do first," Jasper said, pressing his lips to hers again… and again.

"Name it," Alice said, her mind clouded by his closeness and the warmth of his touch. Against her lips, she felt his smile.

Three weeks later, she stood at the front of the church with Jasper, surrounded by their loved ones. Carlisle and Esme, Edward and a pregnant, glowing Bella at his side, sat in the front pews. Even Jasper's sister, Rosalie, had traveled to Chicago for the occasion with her husband and their two small children.

Jasper had found his sister's whereabouts even before he'd been able to find Alice. She'd been at school in Paris at the time he'd been taken captive. While there, she'd met an American journalist stationed there to cover the war and had fallen in love with him. They'd been married shortly after she'd received news of her family and had moved to New York almost immediately thereafter – before the Nazis had been able to find her and eliminate her as the last in her family.

Alice hadn't known exactly what to think of her at first. She bore a strong resemblance to Jasper, almost unspeakably beautiful – Alice felt quite plain beside her. Rose, as she preferred to be called, had thrown herself in her brother's arms when she'd seen him waiting for them at the train station, murmuring in their native German through her tears.

Alice knew Jasper had stayed with his sister and her family for a short time while he'd been searching for her, but that had been almost two years ago, and they'd not seen him since. And there was no denying how much he'd changed even in two years.

Rose could see that he was happy, that he was well and whole now in a way he'd not been since they were children. She had decided that she loved Alice for that reason alone. And it had taken no time for Isaac to win her over. He reminded her of her first memories of Jasper when he'd been about that age – in both looks and the way he carried himself.

Aside from their physical resemblance, Alice could see that Rose had the same quiet strength, the same steely resolve, that her brother possessed… that had enabled them both to survive all the horrors and loss they'd endured. She wasn't overly talkative, but it only took a short time of observing her to see that she loved her family deeply and intensely. She just had a quiet way of showing it.

Rose's husband, on the other hand, Alice had liked immediately. He was quite the imposing figure at first, standing taller even than Jasper – almost six and a half feet tall – and thickly muscled. But, belying his size, he had the biggest, warmest smile Alice had ever seen, surrounded on either side by deep dimples.

Emmett had a jovial, easy-going personality and a hearty, genuine laugh that was infectious. It was obvious right away that his wife and sons were the light of his life. He doted on them shamelessly. All of them – from Carlisle down to Isaac – were won over by him instantly. They discovered that Emmett was just the rare kind of person it was very nearly impossible not to like.

Their two little boys, Ian and Collin, were adorable, Alice thought, a perfect mix of the two of them. Isaac had taken to them instantly, and they to him. Alice had loved watching her son as Ian toddled after him, asking him question after question, and taking great pride in imitating everything Isaac did.

When she'd tucked him into bed the night before, Isaac had looked at her speculatively and asked if maybe they could add a little brother or sister to their family now. He'd like that, he told her. Now that he had a mom _and_ a dad, he needed a little brother or sister for their family to be _really_ complete.

Alice had felt herself flush at his question, her mind going immediately to thoughts of making those babies with Jasper. Her whole body flooded with heat as she remembered how it had been between them before – how she hoped it would be for them again very soon. She was glad it was dark so Isaac couldn't see her blush. That would raise questions she'd just as soon not have to answer yet.

It was with a great deal of effort that she'd managed to keep her voice even, telling him that they'd just have to wait and see. Thankfully, he'd been content with that response, though he had told her he was going to pray for it.

Even though they were still technically married, Jasper had insisted that they do things right this time. This time, they were going to stand before God and their loved ones and pledge themselves to each other. No hiding, no secrets. They were making their love public. It was a renewing of the vows they'd taken years before, a recommitting of themselves to each other.

Isaac stood at the altar with them while they renewed their vows, just as Jasper had requested. He'd felt that this ceremony wasn't just about the two of them, it was about their family… uniting them all as one… finally.

Exactly as it was always meant to be.

Much later that night, Alice lay in bed, sated in both mind and body, watching the play of the moonlight and the night shadows on Jasper's face. She was too happy to waste the night in sleep, a euphoric high from the events of the day still lingering over her.

After the ceremony, they'd all regrouped at Carlisle and Esme's house to enjoy the meal that Alice, Bella, Rose, and Esme had all spent the last few days planning and preparing for. It was almost a Thanksgiving of sorts, as the children ran and played in the backyard under the watchful eyes of their parents. They didn't realize, their minds were too young to comprehend, what exactly everyone was celebrating today. It wasn't just a wedding, it was a celebration of life and love… and a second chance at both.

Every single one of them had walked a hard road, had sacrificed so much, to be where they were at that moment. But the tears and the pain only made their joy now that much richer… that much deeper.

As the sun began to set, Alice and Jasper had kissed Isaac goodbye. At Carlisle and Esme's insistence, he was staying with them for the next three days while the two of them had some time to themselves. They'd made reservations at a hotel – for the honeymoon they'd not had before.

Their physical reunion had been everything Alice had hoped for and more. They'd taken their time, learning and discovering each other all over again. They'd whispered words of love to each other with every touch, every caress, unable to say those words enough… they had years of time lost to make up for after all.

He'd fallen asleep in her arms afterwards, a contented smile still lingering on his lips. Alice traced his features with the very tip of her finger as he slept, marveling at the peacefulness of his expression… and the wonder of having him in her arms again. That was something she'd never, _ever_ take for granted again.

The only thing that threatened to taint her contentment was the evidence of his scars that were now revealed to her. Alice had known Jasper's body as well as her own years before. She'd been able to trace the landmarks that made up his body with her eyes closed – the small, round birthmark on his left hip, the long, lean sinew of his muscles, the expanse of smooth, tanned skin.

There were different marks now for her to find – reminders of where he'd been and the battles he'd fought while they'd been separated. Her fingers found the raised flesh on his shoulder and on his side… small round scars where he'd been shot while protecting her… criss-crossed scars that littered his back. Those were just a few… and she didn't want to think about how he'd received them.

The thought of him being in pain was unbearable, and the physical evidence of what he'd endured made her want to weep. And yet, in an odd way, she was grateful for those scars. The alternative was far worse… the alternative she'd believed was reality for so many years.

The scars meant he'd fought his way out of the darkness. The scars meant he'd survived. The scars proved how much he was willing to sacrifice for her. Death might have been easier, less painful for him, but he'd never broken. He'd fought to live… for her.

Not a day would pass by that she didn't give thanks for that… for the second chance they'd been given… for the love that had been renewed and restored. His scars were a reminder of that.

When Jasper woke the next morning, his contented thoughts mirrored hers almost exactly. His eyes opened to find her head resting on his chest, her long, dark hair fanned out over his shoulder. He smiled, tucking the blankets a little closer around her, holding her just a little tighter. Tenderly, he kissed the smile that still lingered at the corner of her lips, savoring her warmth.

With a sense of awe that never quite left him, he realized that this time it wasn't a dream. This time she was really here in his arms… and he had no intentions of letting her go ever again.

As the months passed and their little family settled into a routine, Alice thought she couldn't possibly be any happier than she already was. But she was proven wrong.

Alice woke up to the sunlight streaming in through the western facing windows. She could hear voices carrying from the kitchen, and she glanced at the clock. She groaned when she saw she'd slept right through dinner.

Jasper and Isaac were at the sink washing their dishes when she went downstairs. Both of her boys looked up at her curiously.

"There you are," Isaac said, wrapping his soapy hands around her waist. "Dad and I were worried. You never sleep during the day."

"I'm sorry," Alice told him, kissing his forehead. "Did you eat?"

Isaac nodded. "We had sandwiches. Dad can't cook like you can." He grinned impishly at his father.

Jasper quirked one eyebrow at him, a grin tugging at his lips. "Do you have food in your stomach?" Isaac nodded. "Then I don't want to hear it."

Isaac just chortled and went to go play. When they were alone, Jasper dried his hands off and went to Alice, placing his hands on either of her cheeks. He pressed his lips against her forehead, holding them there for a moment as his hands slipped to her neck.

He'd been more concerned than he'd let on to Isaac when he'd come home from work to find Alice sound asleep during the middle of the day. Even in sleep her face was pinched and pale, and he'd noticed that she hadn't seemed quite like herself the last few days. He was worried that she was getting sick.

"You don't feel like you're running a fever," he said, winding his arms around her waist and drawing her close. She sagged tiredly against him, nuzzling into his embrace. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Just tired," she said. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice. She took a deep breath, holding him a little tighter. "But I guess that's to be expected right now… at least for the next few months."

"What do you mean?"

Alice smiled through her weariness at the confusion that laced his voice. "I was tired all the time with Isaac too… until about the fourth month."

Jasper pulled back to look at her, and she watched as the pieces came together in his mind. Confusion gave way to disbelief and then to hope before a blinding smile stretched over his face. His eyes darted down to her flat stomach and he had to resist the urge to pick her up and spin her around in circles.

"A baby?" he asked, cupping her face in his hands again. "We're having a baby?"

"We are," Alice said unable to help responding to his infectious enthusiasm. "I don't think I have to ask if you're happy about that."

His jubilant kiss was all the answer she needed.

Jasper had been fascinated as he'd watched her body blossom in pregnancy. Every night he'd pull her into his arms, resting his hands on her growing belly, marveling at the thought that his child was growing there… again. Few things in his life could compare to the feeling of knowing he'd created new life with Alice… and that this time he could experience it all with her.

During the months that followed, he'd asked question after question about her pregnancy with Isaac, reminded all over again what he'd missed, but incredibly grateful for yet another second chance.

Isaac as well was fascinated by watching his mother's stomach getting bigger almost daily and by the thought of the new brother or sister that he'd asked for growing inside her. But inquisitive as he was, of course it raised questions that Alice had known were coming sooner or later. She'd been only too happy to turn that conversation over to Jasper for him to handle, though.

It had been impossible to hold back her laughter when her unshakable husband, a soldier that had borne witness to horrors that most people could never dream of, had come back to her red faced and flustered after trying to explain the facts of life in a manner appropriate for his eight year old son. If anything, it had only made her love him even more… even though that shouldn't have been possible. Her heart should have been too full to love him any more than she already did.

Almost a year to the day after they'd renewed their vows, Alice had given birth to their second child… a little girl this time.

She'd had placed their tiny daughter in Jasper's arms after her birth, and she'd watched him fall in love. Through her exhaustion, she'd smiled at the utter amazement in his eyes as the infant wrapped her tiny fingers around his much larger one with a grip that defied her size. She knew exactly what the love felt like that he was experiencing… deep, pure, and intense.

"Abigail," she'd said suddenly, catching Jasper off guard. He looked up at her in confusion, unable to comprehend anything except the miracle he held in his arms. They'd discussed names, of course, during the pregnancy but they hadn't been able to decide on one they both liked.

"Her name is Abigail," she said again, smiling at his awestruck expression. "It means 'her father's joy.'"

Jasper touched the dark, downy hair on his daughter's head and smiled. "Abigail," he repeated quietly. With that it was decided. Reluctantly, he'd placed the blanketed bundle back in her mother's arms, kissing them both tenderly.

It took no time at all for Abigail to have both her father and her big brother wrapped around her tiny finger, and Alice savored every minute watching them with her. They adored her, always looking for ways to make her smile, to make her coo and laugh. Alice doubted that any baby had been loved quite as much as Abigail was.

And she was a daddy's girl through and through. Her first word was "dada" as Jasper reached into her cradle one morning to pick her up. She took her first steps to him. And when she was old enough, it was his lap she crawled into at night to be rocked to sleep.

Her name was truly fitting. Abigail was a joy.

Two years later, their family expanded again with the equally welcome arrival of Hayden – another little boy with his father's bright blue eyes and Alice's rich brown hair. While Isaac so strongly favored Jasper – even more so the older he got – and Abigail, small and dainty, more closely resembled Alice, Hayden was an almost equal mix of both in looks and in personality.

And then, yet again, their family expanded even more when Rosalie, Emmett and their brood decided to move from New York to Chicago to be closer to family. Emmett and Rose had wanted their children to grow up around family, to be surrounded by aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents… the last a role that Carlisle and Esme had happily adopted with the growing families.

For both Alice and Jasper, there were still times when they feared that this abundant happiness was too good to be true, that they'd wake up one morning and it would all have vanished. But when those doubts surfaced, they had only to look into the smiling faces of their children, to feel the warmth of each other's embrace to know that, yes, this was very real.

They'd fought long and hard, both together and separately, to get where they were. But now, living and loving side by side, surrounded by their children and the family that had been forged by blood and by shared circumstance, they knew without a doubt that there was no life sweeter, no love greater than this. 

* * *

.

Okay, I'm dying to see how many of you actually read past part one. Remember when I asked you to trust me? Did you really think I'd actually kill Jasper? You know me better than that. ;)

If you made it through this beast, you have my thanks. I do hope you enjoyed it.

Please, please take a minute and let me know what you thought. This is my first real attempt at AH/AU, and I'd love to hear from you.

Hugs,

Nik


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